AGATHA   PAGE 


ISAAC    HENDERSON 


AGATHA    PAGE 

A    PARABLE 


OF  CALIF.  UBKABY,   LOS  AHGKLB 


33j  t\)t  Same  &utjior. 

THE    PRELATE. 


It  recalls  Nathaniel  Hawthorne  in  his  most  vigorous  time. 
—  Quettc  Chronicle. 

A  story  of  sustaining  and  absorbing  interest,  written  in 
clear  and  forcible  English.  —  Boston  Courier. 

One  of  the  most  successful  and  powerful  novels  that  has 
been  printed  in  many  a  year.  —  Bujfalo  Commercial  Aitver- 
tii,r. 

II  n.lerson  is  the  most  promising  novelist  who.  for  many 
a  long  day.  has  entered  the  field  of  fiction.  ...  It  is  an  un- 
usually good  novel.  —  Detroit  i\rws. 

An  uncommonly  dcvcr  book.  He  exhibits  unusual  capac- 
ity, —  a  capacity  lor  individual  work  not  less  marked,  and 
scarcely  less  developed,  than  is  shown  by  Mr.  H.  Marion 
Crawford.  —  Brooklyn  Cni.-n. 

One  of  the  most  celebrated  of  Roman  critics  and  writers 
says:  "  I  awoke  after  the  ball  feeling  disposed  to  take  my 
cotfee  in  bed.  With  the  coffee  I  took  your  book.  The 
morning  passed,  and  I  still  remained  reading  'The  Prelate. 
Noon  passed,  and  at  one  o'clock  luncheon  surprised  me.  1 
lasted  it  with  the  tray  set  on  a  pillow,  my  mind  distracted 
with  suspense.  At  two  o'clock  I  laid  down  the  finished  book 
with  a  sigh.  I  am  sure  the  book  will  have  a  success,  and  I  do 
not  see  where  it  can  be  criticised.  It  is  written  with  quiet, 
even  fastidious  good  taste.  The  interest  of  the  story  is  the 
most  perfect  crescendo  possible." 

For  sale  fy  all  booksellers.  Sent,  post-paid,  upon 
receipt  of  price  ($  i .  50).  Ctittiloguesfree. 

TICKNOR   &   CO.,  Boston. 


AGATHA     PAGE 


A  PAKABLE 


BY 


ISAAC     HENDERSON 

AUTHOR  OF   "  THE   PRELATE  " 


FOURTH    EDITION. 


Copyright,  1888, 
Br   TicKNoa  AND  COMPANT. 


All  rights  reserved. 


JOHN  WILSON  AMD  Sou,  CAMKIDGE,  U.S.A 


CONTENTS. 


PAKT  ¥IKST. 

CHAPTER  PACE 

I.    IN  THE  BRIANZA 9 

II.     Two  INTERVIEWS 25 

III.  NEIGHBORLY  VISITS 37 

IV.  MERCEDE 45 

V.    MIGNONETTE  AND  ORCHIDS 61 

VI.     AT  THE  IRON  GATE 72 

VII.  UNDERTONES 80 

VIII.  MADAME  ANDRE 93 

IX.     AT  THE  VILLA  D'  ESTE 109 

X.    LUITELLO 124 

XI.    COMMUNICATIONS 138 

XII.     CONFIDENCES 151 

XIII.  "  IL  TRAMONTO  "  .  165 


PAET   SECOND. 

I.     AN  INVITATION 175 

II.     A  NINE  DAYS'  WONDER 181 

III.  A  LITTLE  LEAVEN 195 

IV.  A  TETE-A-TETE 201 

V.     SMOULDERING  FIRE   .         .    .  ....  211 


2130167 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

VI.    IN  THE  VILLA  BORGHESE 216 

VII.     SOME  PASSING  FACTS 229 

VIII.     SHADOWS       237 

IX.     QUESTIONS  AND  ANSWERS 249 

X.     A  SIGNAL  OF  DANGER 257 

XI.     "FIDELIO" 26G 

XII.     DIFFERENT  POINTS  OF  VIEW 274 

XIII.  LOOKING  NORTHWARD 284 

XIV.  JUNE  DAYS 293 

XV.     SOMETHING  OF  A  HERO 304 

XVI.     FRANCESCO'S  FRIEND 313 

XVII.    IN  THE  GROVE 329 

XVIII.    THE  VILLA  LORENO 336 

XIX.     OLD  ASSOCIATIONS 347 

XX.     A  WOMAN'S  PASSION 3GO 

XXI.    A  WOMAN'S  LOVE 374 

XXII.  "MORE  LASTING  THAN  BRONZE"  .  392 


PAET    FIRST. 


AGATHA   PAGE, 

A  PARABLE. 


PART    FIRST. 


CHAPTER   I. 

IN   THE   BRIANZA. 

IN  charming  verse,  one  hundred  years  ago,  the 
poet  Monti  wrote  of  a  villa  in  the  Brianza,  —  the 
rich  plain  which  has  its  beginning  between  the  two 
arms  of  the  Lake  of  Como.  The  villa  lay  upon  the 
table-land  above  the  town  of  Erba,  and  was  now 
(in  the  year  of  grace  eighteen  hundred  and  seventy- 
eight)  the  property  of  the  Duke  Faviola  of  Rome,  who 
occupied  it  with  his  wife  and  young  daughter  during 
the  summer  months.  Like  most  Italian  villas,  the 
house  was  of  stucco  painted  white,  and  its  lines  were 
symmetrical  and  stiff;  but  the  grounds  were  beauti- 
ful, and  as  worthy  as  ever  of  a  poet's  transport,  the 
mellow  sunshine  melting  flower,  cropped  lawn,  and 
distant  landscape  into  an  exquisite  mosaic. 

The  Duchess  Costanza  Faviola  was  seated  in  an 
easy-chair  upon  the  lawn,  talking  with  a  man  a  few 
years  her  junior.  Her  merry  eyes  twinkled  at  the 
slightest  cause,  and  the  finely-cut  lips  parted  con- 


10  AGATHA  PAGE. 

stantly,  as  though  eager  to  smile.  Yet  she  could  be 
as  haughty  as  Juno  when  she  chose.  Her  compan- 
ion was  her  brother,  the  Marquis  Loreno.  He  had 
been  in  Berlin  for  five  years  as  Charge  d'affaires  of 
the  Italian  legation,  and  this  was  his  first  visit  to 
the  villa,  which  the  Duke  had  inherited  two  years 
before. 

Filippo  Loreno  was  a  manly,  handsome  fellow  of 
eight  and  twenty.  His  face,  clean  shaven,  resolute, 
and  earnest,  was  of  the  old  Roman  type  rather  than 
of  the  new.  His  eyes,  large  and  gray,  shone  now 
with  unusual  brightness,  for  he  was  indignant. 
Some  neighbors  of  the  Duchess  had  lunched  with 
her  that  day,  and  while  drinking  their  coffee  upon 
the  lawn  had  indulged  in  intemperate  gossip.  The 
Duchess  had  early  noticed  signs  of  growing  indigna- 
tion upon  her  brother's  face,  and  knowing  the  im- 
pulsiveness and  directness  of  his  nature,  was  rather 
relieved  than  annoyed  when  she  saw  him  rise,  bow 
ceremoniously  to  the  group,  and  retire  toward  the 
house ;  nor  did  he  come  out  again  until  she  w;is 
alone,  and  now  she  had  playfully  taken  him  to  task 
for  his  rudeness.  He  freely  acknowledged  his  scant 
courtesy,  but  his  wrath  against  the  visitors  was  in  no 
wise  assuaged. 

k>  Why  can't  women  enjoy  themselves  without 
their  incessant  gossip?"  he  demanded. 

11  Why  can't  men  enjoy  themselves  without  their 
incessant  politics  ?  "  she  replied. 

"  But  you  can't  compare  the  two." 

"  Why  not  ?  The  only  difference  is,  that  a  woman 
slanders  her  friends  and  a  man  his  opponents." 


7.V    THE  BRIANZA.  11 

"But,"  he  persisted, keeping  his  mind  upon  the  true 
inspiration  of  his  protest,  "  if  these  friends  of  yours 
really  think  so  badly  of  the  people  they  spoke  of,  why 
do  they  keep  them  up  ?  But  they  do,  and  they  will ! " 

"  Of  course ;  and  that  proves  that  you  solemn  men 
take  us  too  seriously." 

"  And  what  talk  for  those  young  girls  to  hear ! 
It's  monstrous !  " 

"  Ah,  that 's  another  matter :  now  you  speak  like 
a  prophet." 

The  Marquis  was  a  man  of  the  world,  —  above  all, 
of  the  Roman  world  ;  yet  his  very  soul  would  some- 
times revolt  against  the  hypocrisy  which  society 
finds  convenient,  perhaps  necessary.  He  did  not 
suppose  it  practicable  for  a  woman  of  position  to  shut 
her  door  against  all  men  and  women  whose  presence 
was  an  affront  to  her  home,  but  he  had  not  yet  ac- 
quired that  complacency  which  accepts  without  pro- 
test what  it  cannot  cure.  He  had  lofty  ideas  about 
consistency,  and  by  these  he  occasionally  measured 
his  associates,  with  the  result  which  had  now  kindled 
his  righteous  wrath.  He  knew  that  certain  honor- 
able women,  whom  he  had  that  day  heard  confess 
their  knowledge  of  the  dissolute  characters  of  cer- 
tain men,  would  to-morrow  recognize  these  same  men 
publicly,  or  greet  with  a  kiss  some  woman  they  had 
to-day  affected  to  despise  ;  he  knew,  moreover,  that 
others  among  these  same  virtuous  critics  were  them- 
selves just  targets  for  the  tongues  of  their  sisters. 
Yet  many  of  these  women  were  mothers  with  daugh- 
ters to  train,  "  from  among  which  wise  virgins,"  he 
thought,  "  I  am  expected  to  choose  a  wife." 


12  AGATHA   PAGE. 

He  said  nothing  more,  however,  and  the  Duchess 
was  glad  to  let  the  subject  drop. 

"  What  time  is  it  ?  "  she  asked  presently. 

He  looked  at  his  watch.     "  Nearly  four  o'clock." 

"  Then  I  must  leave  you,"  she  said,  rising.  "  We 
will  dine  a  little  later  to-night.  Good-by." 

As  she  passed  him  she  paused,  and  tapping  him  on 
the  shoulder  with  her  fan  said,  "  You  don't  know 
much  about  women.  I  'm  curious  to  see  the  sort  of 
wife  you  '11  choose." 

"  I  suppose  I  must  eventually  have  a  flower  for  my 
button-hole,"  he  replied ;  "  but  I  don't  think  I  '11 
choose  from  your  bouquet." 

She  tapped  him  smartly  across  the  ear  for  his  im- 
pertinence, and  with  a  bright  nod  left  him. 

He  was  in  no  humor  for  reading,  and  lighting  a 
cigar  decided  to  stroll  over  the  hills  as  far  as  Alzate 
and  return  by  the  high-road.  Walking  through  the 
long  avenue  of  c}'press-trees  to  the  entrance-gate, 
he  crossed  the  highway  and  began  the  ascent  of  a 
range  of  low  hills  dotted  with  villas  and  hamlets 
stretching  toward  Milan.  He  was  a  strong  climber, 
and  soon  reaching  the  top  turned  to  enjoy  the  view. 
Before  him  the  shadows  were  lengthening  on  the 
highlands  beyond  Erba,  but  the  sunlight  still  bathed 
the  rich  plain  at  his  feet,  bringing  out  every  shade 
of  green,  from  the  deep  tint  of  the  fir-trees  to  the 
lighter  shades  of  the  mulberry  and  olive,  while  the 
sterile  rock-ribbed  mountains  that  blocked  the  way 
to  the  north  made  the  wealth  of  the  southern  sweep 
more  striking. 

"  It 's  the  modern  Eden  —  for  Eve's  daughters  I  " 


JN  THE  BRIANZA.  13 

he  exclaimed  half  aloud,  as  he  turned  to  pursue  his 
way. 

The  country  was  generally  open  and  the  walking 
easy,  so  he  made  rapid  progress.  At  length  he  came 
to  a  chestnut-grove,  and  after  noting  his  course  en- 
tered it.  Presently  he  paused  and  listened  to  a  dis- 
tant sound,  but  in  a  moment  went  on  again.  The 
brisk  exercise,  the  soft  breeze,  and  the  liquid  notes 
of  the  nightingales  along  his  way,  calmed  his  nervous 
mood,  and  he  acknowledged  that  he  had  often  before 
heard,  without  even  a  mental  protest,  criticism  quite 
as  bitter  as  that  which  had  offended  him  to-day. 

"  Yet  with  every  allowance,"  he  declared,  "  time 
given  to  such  society  is  wasted,  and  I  '11  keep  away 
from  Costanza's  neighbors  as  much  as  I  can.  The 
fact  is,  I  don't  interest  them  and  they  don't  interest 
me.  The  men  are  absorbed  in  the  women,  and  the 
women  —  are  like  so  many  sparrows,  who  feed,  plume 
themselves,  and  chatter." 

He  stopped  again  and  scanned  the  woods  to  his 
right.  He  thought  he  heard  a  soft  strain  of  music ; 
but  the  breeze  rustled  the  leaves  and  the  sound  was 
lost,  so  he  went  on.  Soon,  however,  it  reached  him 
distinctly,  rising — falling  —  and  again  almost  inaudi- 
ble. He  was  passionately  fond  of  music,  and  stood 
listening  until  the  gentle  strain  died  away ;  then 
he  pushed  on  again,  until  suddenly,  quite  near  him, 
a  violin  lifted  its  voice  in  the  opening  phrase  of  a 
nocturne.  He  could  hear  every  note  distinctly,  and 
critical  as  he  was,  the  player's  skill  charmed  him. 

"  How  exquisite ! "  he  exclaimed,  his  interest  ex- 
cited, and  the  possibility  of  unearthing  a  second 


14  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Paginini  occurring  to  his  mind.  "  The  musician  is 
evidently  just  above  me.  I  '11  have  a  look  at  him." 

He  changed  his  course,  and  after  a  few  steps 
found  himself  at  the  upper  edge  of  the  wood,  along 
which  ran  a  strip  of  meadow  about  twenty  yards  in 
width,  skirted  by  a  high  gray  wall  overgrown  with 
moss  and  vines.  To  his  left  it  formed  an  abrupt 
angle  on  the  edge  of  a  steep  incline,  and  to  the  right, 
as  far  as  his  eye  could  follow,  there  seemed  to  be  no 
opening.  He  stood  gazing  at  this  barrier  undecided 
what  to  do,  when  the  touch  of  the  bow  upon  the 
violin  and  the  low  sound  of  a  man's  voice  reached 
him. 

"  He  's  just  over  the  wall,"  thought  the  Marquis  ; 
and  he  again  scrutinized  it  closely,  feeling  a  strange 
confidence  in  his  power  to  look  upon  the  player  in 
spite  of  it. 

He  was  seldom  daunted  when  pursuing  a  purpose, 
either  serious  or  trivial,  and  in  the  end  he  usually 
succeeded.  Some  persons  called  him  lucky,  others 
believed  him  uncommonly  clever.  He  never  thought 
about  the  fact,  but  like  an  Alpine  climber  was  only 
stimulated  by  difficulty,  and  seldom  looked  back. 
With  such  natures  high  purpose  usually  brings  rare 
results ;  but  Loreno  as  yet  had  no  high  purpose,  and 
was  in  consequence  merely  wilful.  Anything  he 
wished  to  possess  he  grasped  at.  If  it  were  out  of 
his  reach  he  moved  nearer  :  sometimes  this  was  diffi- 
cult, but  he  moved  nearer  all  the  same. 

Therefore,  as  his  clear  gray  eye  scanned  the  wall, 
he  became  more  interested  than  ever  in  his  search, 
and  more  determined  than  ever  to  succeed.  Had  uo 


IN  THE  BRIANZA.  15 

other  method  presented  itself,  he  would  in  all  proba- 
bility have  scaled  the  wall  (for  he  had  already  meas- 
ured it  with  his  glance)  ;  but  his  "luck"  served  him 
and  made  the  way  clear. 

A  dozen  yards  below,  near  a  thick  growth  of  ivy 
upon  the  wall,  some  cattle  were  grazing,  and  Loreno's 
quick  eye  saw  an  ox  catch  the  vine  upon  one  of  his 
horns. 

"  The  ivy  in  that  spot  does  n't  grow  against  the 
wall,"  he  said  to  himself;  and  going  quickly  forward 
he  discovered  that  the  vine  was  a  mere  screen  for  a 
gate  formed  of  iron  bars. 

Through  great  oaks  that  cast  long  shadows  upon  a 
velvet  lawn  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  spacious  park, 
and  upon  a  distant  plateau  he  could  see  the  upper 
part  of  a  large  villa.  Sloping  down  from  the  house 
were  terraces  of  flowers  and  stretches  of  woodland 
leading  gently  to  the  gate  at  which  he  stood.  Within 
the  shade  of  a  tree  near  him  a  silver-haired  priest 
was  seated  upon  a  rustic  bench,  his  fine  pale  face 
upturned  in  rapt  attention  to  that  of  a  young  girl 
who  stood  before  him  in  the  full  splendor  of  the 
golden  sunlight,  playing  upon  a  violin. 

Her  form  was  tall  and  slender,  and  her  dress  was 
white.  Her  golden  hair  fairly  romped  over  the  well- 
poised  head,  escaping  from  two  demure  bands  of 
velvet  which  tried  their  best  to  hold  it ;  some  daring 
tresses  even  dancing  down  the  forehead  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  deep-blue  eyes  beneath,  then  turning 
aside  to  scamper  down  the  neck  and  join  the  flowing 
mass  that  swept  around  the  farther  shoulder  and 
hid  itself  under  her  violin.  The  face,  while  im- 


16  AGATHA  PAGE. 

mature,  was  eloquent  of  latent  strength.  The  re- 
flective eyes,  the  delicate  nostrils,  the  arched  lips, 
the  round  firm  chin,  told  an  observant  eye  that  had 
this  girl  lived  in  ancient  Rome,  she  would  have  stood 
in  the  arena  undaunted  in  her  faith. 

She  played  with  much  feeling,  sometimes  swaying 
with  the  rhythm,  or  again  inclining  her  head  toward 
the  instrument  until  her  cheek  seemed  to  caress  it ; 
but  now  her  bow  scarcely  touched  the  strings  as 
the  tone  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  and  when  it  died 
away  the  player  looked  down  upon  the  silent  violin 
as  a  mother  gazes  at  her  sleeping  child. 

With  a  quick  motion  she  dropped  her  bow  to  her 
side  and  turned  toward  the  priest. 

"  Can't  you  praise  me  even  a  little  ?  "  she  asked. 

The  old  man,  his  face  glowing  with  satisfaction, 
put  out  his  hand  to  her.  She  ran  forward  impul- 
sively and  dropped  on  her  knees  beside  him. 

"  That 's  the  dear  old  hand  that  began  it,"  she 
said,  stroking  the  white  fingers.  "  Now  tell  me  if 
I  've  improved." 

"  Wonderfully ! " 

"  Are  you  proud  of  me?"  and  the  upturned  e}Tes 
looked  very  bright  and  happy. 

"  Even  Tagliani,  great  master  that  he  is,  has  n't 
many  such  pupils,  I  '11  venture  to  say  !  " 

She  was  about  to  protest,  sincerely  enough,  but 
caught  herself  in  time.  "  Very  few  of  his  pupils 
come  from  such  a  master  as  I  had." 

"Nonsense ! " 

But  she  saw  how  pleased  he  was.  Rising,  she 
seated  herself  beside  him,  still  holding  his  hand. 


IN  THE  BRIANZA.  17 

"  Tagliani  said  I  already  had  a  good  tone  when  I 
first  played  to  him ;  but  did  n't  I  write  you  that  from 
Rome?" 

"  Yes,  child,  yes.  But  I  did  n't  teach  you  your 
tone  ;  it  was  God's  gift." 

"  You  can't  deny  that  you  improved  it,"  she  said 
decidedly. 

He  held  up  his  hand  deprecatingly,  his  kind  eyes 
grave. 

"  Caro  Padre  !  I  'm  always  shocking  you.  I  'm 
very  sorry,"  and  she  looked  into  his  face  penitently. 
"  But,"  she  added  quickly,  "  you  have  n't  told  me 
how  you  like  my  new  violin." 

"  It 's  a  fine  instrument ;  indeed,  I  've  seldom 
heard  one  so  good." 

"It  has  n't  so  lovely  a  tone  as  yours,  but  perhaps 
it  is  more  brilliant." 

"  It 's  altogether  a  different  thing,"  and  he  shook 
his  finger  at  her  hypocrisy.  "  Mine  was  cheap  and 
served  its  purpose  well,  but  this  is  fit  for  the  bow 
of  an  artist ; "  and  he  examined  it  with  admiration, 
lightly  touching  the  strings. 

"  Play  something,"  she  pleaded. 

"  I  ?  My  playing  would  sound  very  tame  after 
the  artists  you  have  been  hearing  in  Rome." 

"  Your  playing  sound  tame  to  me  ?  Never  !  You 
play  much  more  to  my  heart  than  Tagliani,  or  any 
one  else.  Do  try  something." 

In  spite  of  his  absurd  nervousness  at  the  presence 
of  his  former  pupil,  Padre  Sacconi  played  uncom- 
monly well.  As  the  young  girl  watched  him  her 
thoughts  flew  back  to  the  first  lesson  she  had  taken 

2 


18  AGATHA   PAGE. 

from  him  four  years  before  on  that  same  spot.  It 
was  also  on  a  day  in  May,  and  he  had  stood  before 
her,  as  now,  his  tall  form  erect,  his  long  hair  shak- 
ing about  his  neck,  his  brown  eyes  glowing  with  the 
fervor  of  his  work. 

"  Bravo!"  she  cried,  as  the  priest  lowered  his  bow. 
"  I  never  enjoyed  your  playing  more." 

Unusually  excited  by  his  performance,  the  old  man 
examined  the  violin  with  a  tenderness  that  did  not 
escape  the  notice  of  his  watchful  companion. 

"It's  marvellous!"  he  said,  as  if  to  himself.  "I 
never  knew  an  instrument  so  responsive,  so  really 
sympathetic."  He  stepped  toward  the  young  girl 
and  held  out  her  treasure.  "  Many  thanks,  my 
child  ;  it  has  given  me  true  joy." 

"I  hope  it  may  often  do  so — but  not  enough  to 
make  me  jealous  of  it." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  replied.  "  Then  I  may  use  it 
sometimes?  " 

"  Always  —  for  my  sake  ; "  and  stooping  she  picked 
up  the  case  and  held  it  out  to  him,  pointing  to  a 
silver  plate  bearing  an  inscription. 

He  looked  at  it  soberly,  and  read  the  words  — 

"TO  PADRE   GIOVANNI   SACCONI, 

FROM    HIS    GRATEFUL   rth'IL 
AGATIIA   PAGE.'' 

His  eyes  were  raised  to  hers,  then  sought  the  in- 
strument; drawing  her  head  nearer,  he  kissed  the 
fair  forehead  gently,  then  looked  again  at  his  violin. 
Patting  it,  he  said  huskily,  "  I  '11  love  it  chiefly  for 
thy  sake  —  Agatha." 


IN   THE  BRIANZA.  19 

A  few  moments  later  the  old  priest  locked  the  iron 
gate  behind  him  and  walked  down  a  path  which  the 
Marquis  had  discovered  as  he  turned  away.  It  was  a 
short  cut  to  a  little  hamlet  at  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
and  Padre  Sacconi,  who  had  been  the  priest  of  the 
village  for  twenty  years,  often  used  it  when  he  went 
to  see  Agatha  or  her  uncle,  the  Count  Ricci,  who 
owned  the  villa. 

The  Count's  sister  had  married  an  American  named 
Page,  who  was  at  the  time  of  his  marriage  in  the 
diplomatic  service  at  Rome.  When  Agatha,  their 
only  child,  was  four  years  old,  her  father  died,  and 
seven  years  later  she  lost  her  mother;  whereupon 
the  Count,  for  love  of  his  sister  and  from  a  sense  of 
duty  as  the  child's  guardian,  took  Agatha  to  his  own 
home.  His  daughter  Mercede,  two  years  Agatha's 
senior,  was  at  a  convent,  but  in  obedience  to  his 
sister's  instructions  the  Count  had  Agatha  educated 
at  home.  Thus  the  cousins  saw  but  little  of  each 
other  until  Mercede's  seventeenth  year,  when  she 
returned  to  Rome.  While  the  kind  Italian  made  no 
difference  in  his  demonstration  of  love  toward  them, 
his  heart  inclined  much  more  tenderly  toward  his 
own  child,  not  only  because  of  the  closer  tie,  but 
because  he  understood  her  character  better.  His 
raven-haired,  black-eyed  daughter,  impulsive  and 
often  wilful,  belonged  to  a  type  with  which  he  was 
familiar.  He  could  comprehend  her  moods  (and  they 
varied  from  ecstasy  to  sullenness),  because  her  mother 
had  possessed  the  same  temperament;  and  he  glo- 
ried in  her  warm  Southern  nature.  Even  when 
she  sometimes  became  jealous  of  Agatha  he  appre- 


20  AGATHA  PAGE, 

ciated  her  suffering  and  comforted  her  wisely,  or 
if  she  disregarded  his  commands  he  understood  her 
and  was  lenient.  Agatha  was  calmer,  stranger,  far- 
ther away ;  more  lovely  of  disposition  certainly,  and 
in  her  way  quite  as  interesting,  "  but,"  he  would  say 
with  swelling  pride,  "  not  so  Italian !  " 

When  one  evening  his  beautiful  daughter,  leaning 
upon  his  arm,  made  her  entrance  into  society,  he  felt 
that  no  father  had  ever  juster  reason  for  satisfaction 
and  high  expectation.  Nor  was  he  disappointed  in 
the  reception  accorded  Mercede.  Her  dark  beauty 
and  exuberance  of  spirit,  won  her  many  admirers, 
and  within  two  months  the  Duke  Bramante  broached 
the  subject  of  a  union  between  the  two  families.  No 
alliance  possible  to  his  adored  child  could  have  been 
more  agreeable  to  the  Count ;  but  he  was  not  yet 
prepared  to  lose  her,  and  smilingly  bade  his  good 
friend  be  patient,  for  his  daughter  was  very  young. 

In  the  mean  time,  however,  a  young  officer,  dashing 
but  poor,  made  love  to  Mercede  under  the  very  eyes 
of  her  father  and  aunts,  whose  minds  failed  to  grasp 
the  possibility  of  her  making  an  independent  choice. 
But  she  did  so,  and  at  last  a  dim  suspicion  of  the  fact 
was  forced  upon  the  Count,  who  questioned  her  about 
it,  although  without  serious  misgiving.  She  boldly 
avowed  her  love  for  the  lieutenant  and  her  determi- 
nation to  marry  him.  Pleading  was  of  no  avail ;  in- 
deed, nothing  served  to  shake  her  decision,  and  the 
old  aunts  could  conceive  of  no  better  plan  than  the 
ancient  one.  Therefore  by  their  advice,  and  in  de- 
spair at  Mercede's  obstinacy,  the  Count  decided  to 
send  his  child  away  from  Rome  for  a  long  visit. 


IN  THE  BRIANZA.  21 

In  three  weeks  he  received  a  despatch  telling  him 
that  Mercede  had  run  away  ;  and  a  week  later  a 
letter  from  her  announced  that  she  was  the  lieuten- 
ant's happy  wife.  The  tone  of  this  letter  showed 
plainly  her  immaturity  and  her  confidence  of  speedy 
forgiveness. 

But  she  had  not  measured  her  father  well.  His 
love  was  indeed  great,  but  so  were  his  pride,  his 
ambition,  and  his  sense  of  authority ;  no  one  of 
which  was  so  powerful  as  his  love,  but  the  union  of 
which  guided  his  action  in  this  crisis.  He  did  not 
answer  her  letter. 

Beside  all  else,  his  heart  was  sorely  bruised  by  his 
daughter's  disloyalty.  He  had  always  supposed  she 
must  needs  be  persuaded  to  marry ;  that  his  love  and 
protection  constituted  her  chief  happiness :  the  sud- 
den disillusion  shocked  him  severely,  awakening  a 
feeling  of  resentment  toward  her  and  of  jealousy 
toward  her  husband ;  and  with  the  intensity  of  his 
Southern  nature  he  became  as  bitter  as  he  had  before 
been  doting.  "When,  therefore,  Agatha  attempted  to 
plead  in  Mercede's  behalf,  he  told  her  sternly  to  be 
silent,  and  never  again  to  mention  the  name  of  her 
cousin  in  his  presence. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  impecunious  lieutenant  waited 
in  vain  for  the  dowry  which  he  daily  expected  would 
be  given  his  bride  with  the  parental  blessing;  and 
although  the  religious  ceremony  was  performed,  the 
civil  marriage  —  which  by  Italian  law  cannot  be  con- 
tracted by  an  officer  unless  the  bride  possess  a  cer- 
tain capital  —  was  indefinitely  postponed. 

Mercede,  however,  did  not  mourn   seriously;  she 


22  AGATHA   PAGE. 

believed  that  her  father's  anger  would  burn  itself 
out,  and  her  Ernesto  told  her  that  if  worse  came 
to  worst,  he  would  some  day  inherit  enough  money 
to  give  her  the  requisite  dowry,  and  then  the  second 
ceremony  could  be  performed. 

"  But,  after  all,"  said  he,  "what  is  the  civil  mar- 
riage ?  A  mere  form  in  compliance  with  an  arbitrary 
law  of  recent  date.  The  essential  service  —  that 
which  truly  unites  a  man  and  a  woman — is  already 
accomplished,  and  you  hold  a  certificate  duly  signed 
by  the  priest  who  performed  it." 

Thus  he  reassured  her,  while  she  waited  patiently 
for  time  to  bring  back  both  her  beloved  father  and 
her  accustomed  luxury. 

Month  succeeded  month,  and  still  the  Count  re- 
mained obdurate.  Finally  came  the  news  that 
Mercede  had  a  son,  and  Agatha  ventured  to  tell 
the  grandfather.  If  he  felt  any  emotion,  he  hid  it. 
Facing  Agatha,  he  said  coldly :  "  You  had  no  right  to 
speak  of  this  subject ;  have  my  wishes  no  weight  with 
you  either?"  Then  he  left  the  room,  and  for  the  rest 
of  that  day  remained  in  his  own  apartment. 

It  had  been  the  lieutenant's  custom  to  keep 
Mercede  near  him  in  his  changes  of  station,  and 
his  marriage  was  only  officially  a  secret.  He  pro- 
vided her  with  a  modest  home,  and  she  took  her 
position  as  in  all  respects  his  true  and  lawful 
wife.  There  were  only  two  drawbacks  to  their 
otherwise  smooth  life:  one  was  Mercede's  unbal- 
anced temperament,  and  the  other  a  lack  of  money. . 
Mercede  at  first  had  lived  in  an  ecstasy  of  bliss, 
and  her  new  joy,  combined  with  a  certain  awe  in 


IN  THE  BRIANZA.  23 

which  she  held  her  idol,  enabled  her  to  control  the 
variable  moods  which  later,  swinging  backward  and 
forward,  often  led  her  from  beatitude  to  misery. 
She  had  never  known  until  now  what  it  was  to 
need  money,  and  inevitable  anxiety  regarding  the 
common  necessaries  of  life  had  a  marked  effect  upon 
her. 

Instead  of  their  financial  state  growing  more  com- 
fortable, as  the  lieutenant  often  predicted  that  it 
would,  each  year  it  became  more  straitened ;  and  cer- 
tain loans  which  Mercede  was  induced  to  make  from 
Agatha,  under  the  illusion  that  at  quarter-day  the 
lieutenant  would  be  able  to  repay  them,  now  repre- 
sented an  amount  equal  to  her  husband's  pay  for  a 
year. 

Mercede  never  understood  where  all  this  money 
went  to ;  but  she  handed  it  to  the  lieutenant,  who 
kept  the  accounts,  and  whose  technical  explanations 
only  served  to  confound  her.  She  economized  as 
closely  as  she  could  both  upon  herself  and  the  child, 
and  anxiously  awaited  the  day  when  this  dreadful 
load  of  debt  might  begin  to  be  reduced. 

Suddenly  the  truth  was  made  known  to  her. 
Her  husband  was  a  gambler  ;  and  his  pay,  together 
with  Agatha's  remittances,  had  been  lost  at  baccarat, 
while  creditors  besieged  their  home  from  every  side. 
The  effect  upon  so  intemperate  a  nature  as  Mer- 
cede's  was  sure  to  be  serious.  Outraged  and  full  of 
scorn,  she  followed  the  first  surging  impulse  that 
flowed  over  her.  Taking  her  child,  she  left  the  home 
which  she  felt  no  longer  belonged  to  her,  and  wrote 
bidding  the  lieutenant  sell  its  contents  and  pay  what 


24  AGATHA   PAGE. 

debts  he  could,  and  not  to  hope  for  her  return  until 
all  were  cancelled.  She  took  a  room  near  by  and 
began  publicly  to  support  herself  by  sewing  and  teach- 
ing. This  open  disgrace  was  more  than  her  husband 
could  stand,  and  he  went  to  see  her.  Mercede  was 
unbending,  and  a  stormy  interview  ensued.  At  last 
she  ordered  him  to  go,  and  when  he  refused  she  left 
the  room. 

Desperate,  and  with  the  purpose  of  bringing  her  to 
terms,  he  took  her  marriage  certificate  and  departed, 
and  when  a  few  days  later  he  was  ordered  to  Como 
he  took  the  paper  with  him,  leaving  her  to  come  to 
her  senses ;  but  she  continued  obstinate,  and  by 
means  of  the  work  given  her  by  sympathetic  friends, 
managed  to  keep  out  of  debt.  She  had  not,  however, 
the  heart  to  write  to  Agatha,  with  whom  she  had 
until  now  kept  up  a  weekly  correspondence  ;  and  it 
was  of  this  strange  silence  that  the  latter  was  think- 
ing as  she  sat  under  the  oak-tree  after  Padre  Sacconi 
had  departed  with  his  precious  gift  under  his  arm. 


CHAPTER  II. 

TWO   INTERVIEWS. 

ALTHOUGH  the  Marquis  Loreno  was  commonly 
accounted  impulsive,  he  succeeded,  not  only  during 
dinner,  but  afterward  while  smoking  with  the  Duke, 
in  restraining  an  impulse  which  had  taken  strong 
hold  upon  him.  He  did  not  approach  the  subject 
which  engrossed  his  mind,  but  talked  with  the  Duke 
about  his  three  hobbies ;  namely, hunting,  New  Guinea, 
and  his  daughter  Gaeta,  who  was  now  twelve  years 
of  age. 

The  Duke  was  a  tall,  broad-shouldered  man  of  five 
and  forty.  He  wore  a  long  black  beard  which,  to- 
gether with  heavy  eyebrows  above  a  pair  of  keen 
black  eyes,  gave  him  a  somewhat  ferocious  appear- 
ance, and  strangers  passing  him  often  looked  a  second 
time  at  the  striking  figure,  with  everything  black 
about  it  except  a  bit  of  collar  and  warm  olive  skin 
beneath  the  crushed  felt  hat. 

Early  in  life  he  had  gone  to  New  Guinea  on  an 
exploring  expedition,  which  had  won  him  distinction. 
Since  his  marriage  he  had  curbed  his  love  of  adven- 
ture ;  but  occasionally  he  would  don  his  hunting-suit 
and  with  his  dog  and  his  gun  wander  about  the  great 
Campagna  for  several  days.  He  was  a  very  silent 
man,  yet  his  silence  was  not  oppressive,  for  it  seemed 


26  AGATHA   PAGE. 

to  fit  his  personality,  and  when  he  chose  to  speak  he 
spoke  well ;  but  he  did  not  refer  to  his  adventures 
except  upon  rare  occasions  and  at  his  own  fireside. 
Other  hunters,  however,  told  wonderful  tales  of  his 
indifference  to  danger  and  exposure,  and  gave  ample 
testimony  to  his  force  of  will  and  remarkable  prowess 
with  his  rifle. 

When  they  muffled  themselves  in  great-coats  to 
keep  out  the  biting  cold,  and  protected  their  faces 
from  the  brambles  by  thick  visors,  they  would  some- 
times be  startled  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  the 
stalwart  Duke — his  soft  hat  pushed  back  from  his 
torn  face,  his  hunting-coat  unbuttoned,  and  his  breast 
bared  to  the  air,  as  he  stalked  rapidly  along,  bearing 
lightly  his  trusty  weapon,  and  followed  by  his  tired 
dog. 

An  accidental  witness  testified  that  once  when  he 
was  challenged  by  three  brigands  in  one  of  the 
wildest  parts  of  the  Campagna,  he  haughtily  fired  his 
rifle  into  the  air  and  then  dared  them  to  molest  him. 
The  bravado  of  the  act  was  disconcerting,  and  as  he 
dashed  at  them  with  his  gun  clubbed,  two  of  them 
fled  incontinently,  and  only  the  third  fired  upon  him. 
But  the  fellow's  aim  was  hasty,  and  ere  he  could  es- 
cape he  was  in  the  clutch  of  the  thoroughly  aroused 
giant,  who  dashed  him  to  the  ground,  spurned  him 
with  his  foot,  broke  his  gun  like  a  reed,  and  only 
pausing  to  recover  his  own  weapon,  walked  uncon- 
cernedly away. 

Yet  this  same  nature  could  be  swayed  by  that  of 
little  Gaeta  with  a  certainty  and  force  that  were 
almost  pathetic.  He  would  listen  to  her  words  with 


TWO  INTERVIEWS.  27 

the  deepest  interest  as  she  poured  out  her  sorrows 
and  joys.  He  was  proud  of  his  wife,  but  he  adored 
the  child,  and  the  two  seemed  to  form  his  world. 
He  had  a  hearty  liking  for  Loreno,  and  showed  it 
by  occasionally  relaxing  his  habit  of  silence  and  per- 
mitting himself  to  be  drawn  into  conversation  by  him, 
as  in  the  present  instance. 

Soon,  however,  the  father  and  daughter  went  off  to- 
gether, and  then  Loreno  lost  no  time  in  approaching 
the  subject  which  engrossed  him. 

"  Whose  villa  is  that,  Costanza,"  he  asked,  turning 
to  his  sister  nonchalantly,  "higher  up  the  ridge,  about 
three  kilometres  beyond  here  ?  It  is  directly  above 
the  church  with  a  tower." 

*'  I  suppose  you  mean  the  Count  Ricci's." 

"  Yes,  that  's  the  name ; "  and  in  reply  to  her 
quick  glance  of  surprise,  he  added,  "  I  remember 
asking  some  one  this  afternoon.  Don't  you  know 
the  Count"?" 

"  Yes,  quite  well." 

';  But  I  've  not  seen  him  here." 

"  Very  likely ;  his  wife  died  some  years  ago,  and 
he  seldom  goes  anywhere.  I  have  almost  given  up 
asking  him." 

"  He  has  a  daughter,  has  n't  he  ?  " 

«  Yes,  —  surely  you  must  have  heard  about  her ; 
she  ran  away  with  a  lieutenant." 

"Indeed!  is  that  the  Ricci?"  and  his  face  fell. 
"  I  presume,  then,  that  the  daughter  has  repented  and 
come  home  again." 

"  Not  that  I  have  heard  ;  is  there  such  a  report?" 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it  —  except,"  and 


28  AGATHA  PAGE. 

he  avoided  her  gaze,  "  that  I  happened  to  see  a 
young  girl  there  to-day." 

"  You  did  ?     I  did  n't  know  that  you  knew  them." 

"  I  don't ;  only  while  walking  over  the  hill  near 
the  Count's  villa  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  violin  coming 
from  the  grounds,  and  my  curiosity  prompted  me  to 
look  through  a  gate  in  the  wall,  and  I  saw  a  young 
girl  playing  to  an  old  priest." 

She  folded  her  hands  in  her  lap  and  regarded  him 
quizzically. 

"  Oh,  did  you.  And  now  that  same  curiosity 
impels  you  to  come  to  me  to  find  out  all  about  her." 
She  laughed  softly,  adding,  "  You  are  not  very  skilful 
in  such  matters ;  directness  is  much  more  in  your  line." 

"  Do  you  think  it's  the  daughter?  "  he  asked. 

"  How  should  I  know  ?  " 

"  Has  the  Count  any  other  daughter  ?  " 

"  I  won't  tell  you." 

"  Answer  that  question,  at  least." 

"  No,  he  has  not." 

He  waited,  hoping  she  would  continue,  but  she  re- 
mained silent.  This  was  an  occasion  when  he  would 
not  have  run  away  from  a  little  gossip. 

"  You  don't  think  she  has  left  her  husband  ?  "  he 
asked  presently. 

She  laughed  quietly.     "  I  doubt  it." 

His  face  fell,  and  he  seemed  to  be  musing.  "  Per- 
haps her  father  is  reconciled  to  him,"  he  suggested. 

"  I  doubt  that  also  I " 

And  so  she  parried  his  questions  until,  tired  of 
chuffing  him,  she  told  him  who  it  was  he  had  seen, 
and  related  Agatha's  history. 


TWO  INTERVIEWS.  29 

"  The  poor  child,"  she  added,  "  goes  nowhere. 
Her  uncle  has  no  heart  for  society,  so  she  devotes 
herself  to  her  violin.  She  is  charming,  and  I  have 
her  at  luncheon  occasionally ;  although  were  she  not 
charming  I  should  invite  her  as  a  charity." 

"  Invite  her  to-morrow,  and  include  me  as  a  char- 
ity," he  exclaimed. 

She  laughed  lightly,  and  sat  toying  with  her  cup  of 
coffee. 

Her  hesitation  gave  him  the  clew  to  her  thought. 
"  You  don't  relish  the  responsibility,"  he  said. 
"  Well,  I  don't  deny  that  she  interests  me." 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  frankly  how  I  feel  about  it? " 

"  By  all  means." 

"  Miss  Page  is  very  sincere,  as  well  as  lovely,  while 
you  are  lovely  but  not  so  sincere.  I  ought  to  know  ; 
I  've  watched  you  often  enough." 

He  looked  amused.  "  And  what  do  you  make  out 
of  me  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  If  a  thing  interests  you  it 's  your  nature  to  go 
close  and  have  a  good  look  at  it,  just  as  a  child  would. 
This  principle  was  well  enough  while  you  were  a 
child,  but  when  as  a  man  you  apply  your  habit  to 
susceptible  young  women,  it 's  misleading ;  and  when, 
having  satisfied  your  curiosity,  you  calmly  turn  away, 
you  seem  to  forget  that  their  young  hearts  are  not 
made  of  wood  or  china,  and  that  what  is  to  you  a 
mere  episode  may  be  their  —  " 

"  Last  straw,  poor  things !  "  he  interrupted.  "  But 
this  is  different,  really  it  is,  and  after  such  a  warning 
you  may  trust  me." 

"That's  the  strangest  part  of  it  all,"  she  said 


30  AGATHA   PAGE. 

helplessly.  "  I  do  you  the  justice  to  believe  that  you 
don't  realize  what  a  flirt  you  are,  and  that  you  are 
innocent  of  most  of  the  hearts  you  've  broken  ;  but  I 
can't  tell  Miss  Page  that,  and  I  don't  wish  to  put  her 
at  a  disadvantage." 

He  laughed  quietly.  "I'm  awfully  sorry  about 
myself,"  he  said;  "but  can't  you  keep  an  eye  upon 
me,  and  whenever  I  begin  to  flirt  strike  your  table- 
bell  ?  It  might  also  put  her  on  her  guard." 

At  first  the  Duchess  was  obdurate  ;  but  he  urged 
her  so  earnestly  that  at  last  she  began  to  yield,  and 
before  they  parted  he  won  her  to  his  wish,  and  she 
agreed  to  invite  her  young  neighbor  to  luncheon 
during  the  week. 

The  next  morning,  as  Agatha  was  arranging  some 
flowers  upon  the  breakfast-table,  the  mail  was  brought 
in,  and  she  hurriedly  tore  open  an  envelope  addressed 
in  Mercede's  handwriting.  As  she  read  the  letter 
her  color  grew  faint.  The  Count's  footstep  sounded 
upon  the  stairs,  and  bidding  the  servant  tell  her  uncle 
not  to  wait  breakfast  for  her,  she  hastened  from  the 
room.  Going  into  the  air,  she  crossed  the  lawn,  and 
entering  a  deeply-shaded  path  went  to  an  arbor  where 
she  felt  comparatively  safe  from  interruption.  Draw- 
ing the  letter  from  her  pocket,  she  eagerly  read  the 
remainder  of  it,  and  then  sat  pondering,  her  hands  in 
her  lap,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  distant  landscape. 
The  breeze  caught  the  paper  and  it  fluttered  to  the 
ground.  Aroused  by  the  act  of  recovering  it,  she 
sighed  and  slowly  re-read  it. 

It  ran  as  follows :  — 


TWO  INTERVIEWS.  31 

MY  DEAREST  AGATHA,  —  In  my  alarm  I  turn  to  you. 
My  husband  disgraced  himself  and  me,  and  I  left  his 
house.  He  came  to  my  rooms  and  begged  me  to  return, 
but  I  refused  and  left  him  alone.  Afterward  I  discovered 
that  my  writing-desk,  which  was  in  the  room  with  him,  had 
been  forced  open.  I  don't  know  why,  but  I  instantly 
thought  of  nry  marriage  certificate.  It  was  gone !  Yet 
it  was  there,  for  I  remember — such  a  sickly  fool  was  I 
yesterda}' !  —  I  remember  kissing  it. 

I  am  certain  he  took  the  paper,  but  for  what  purpose  ? 
Agatha,  I  beg  of  3'ou  to  think  for  me.  If  you  can  reassure 
me,  do  so  ;  if  not,  then  help  me. 

The  civil  marriage  was  never  performed  —  never  mind 
why ;  we  are  dealing  with  the  present.  I  telegraphed 
to  him  instantly,  and  just  now  a  trifling  reply  has  come 
addressed  to  my  maiden  name.  Agatha,  I  fear  serious 
trouble  is  near.  In  the  disgrace  my  father  put  upon  me 
my  husband  sustained  me ;  but  if  he  is  gone,  to  whom 
can  I  look?  My  husband  is  at  Como,  and  Erba  is  so 
near  that  perhaps  Padre  Sacconi  would  go  and  talk  with 
him.  He  must  give  me  back  my  certificate.  Think  it 
all  over,  Agatha,  and  telegraph  me  something,  for  I  am 
almost  wild. 

MERCEDE. 

Agatha  raised  her  head,  and  looking  through  the 
long  vista  of  over-arching  trees  that  edged  the  path 
to  the  brow  of  the  hill,  gazed  upon  a  distant  moun- 
tain tipped  with  snow. 

"As  well  ask  Padre  Sacconi  to  melt  that  snow 
with  words,"  she  said.  "  What  that  scoundrel  needs 
is  a  visit  from  Mercede's  father.  He  might  bring 
him  to  his  senses." 

She   sat   and  revolved   many   plans   having   this 


32  AGATHA   PAGE. 

purpose,  and  at  last  arose  with  the  decision  that  she 
would  seek  her  uncle. 

Walking  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  the  house,  she 
reached  the  edge  of  the  lawn,  and  pausing  looked 
toward  a  palm-tree  where  the  Count  often  had  his 
easy-chair  placed  in  the  morning,  while  he  smoked 
his  cigar  and  talked  with  the  head  gardener.  She 
saw  him,  and  fortunately  he  was  alone. 

The  Count  was  sixty  years  of  age,  and  a  stranger 
glancing  at  his  gray  mustache  and  decided  face 
would  probably  have  taken  him  to  be  a  soldier.  In- 
deed, there  was  much  of  the  military  in  the  Count, 
—  that  is,  much  that  is  popularly  associated  with  a 
soldier's  character ;  but  having  determined  this,  one 
would  have  decided  further  that  he  was  accustoned 
to  a  general's  plume. 

"  Good-morning,"  he  said  as  she  approached  ;  "  I 
fear  you  are  not  well." 

"  Perfectly,  only  I  —  "  and  she  paused. 

His  eyes  twinkled  as  he  added,  "  Only  you  !  So 
long  as  you  can  come  back  and  say  '  Only  I,'  Padre 
Sacconi  may  remain  your  sole  confidant.  Now  give 
me  my  morning  kiss." 

She  laid  her  hand  in  the  one  he  held  out  to  her, 
and  bending  down  kissed  him  lovingly.  She  dreaded 
to  speak,  yet  felt  that  the  moment  was  opportune, 
and  that  there  was  danger  to  Mercede  in  delay. 

The  General  patted  the  hand  he  still  held,  and 
looking  into  her  face  smiled  kindly.  As  he  noted 
the  seriousness  of  its  lines  and  the  gravity  of  her 
eyes,  his  own  expression  changed,  and  he  regarded 
her  with  more  attention. 


TWO  INTERVIEWS.  33 

*'  Uncle  —  "  she  began. 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  Yes,  dear." 

She  tried  again,  but  her  throat  was  parched  and 
her  voice  failed  her. 

She  was  frightened  at  her  position.  The  General, 
unsuspecting,  was  looking  at  her  sympathetically, 
and  she  was  on  the  point  of  dealing  him  a  blow  the 
result  of  which  she  could  not  foretell.  Was  it 
necessary?  In  any  event,  would  it  not  be  better 
to  get  Padre  Sacconi's  opinion  before  taking  such 
responsibility  ? 

She  looked  into  the  kind  eyes  raised  to  hers,  and 
tried  to  smile  and  gain  time  for  thought.  But  sud- 
denly Mercede's  position  came  sternly  to  her,  sweep- 
ing away  indecision  as  death  devours  hope. 

"  Uncle,"  she  said  clearly,  —  "  Uncle,"  and  she 
clasped  his  hand  tightly,  "  I  fear  I  must  make  you 
terribly  unhappy ! " 

He  half  turned  and  searched  her  face  with  sudden 
dread.  The  old  love  for  his  Mercede  welled  up  and 
overwhelmed  all  bitterness  for  the  moment,  and  he 
could  not  control  his  trembling. 

"  Is  she  dead?" 

Agatha  looked  upon  his  quivering  lips  and  could 
not  answer. 

"Is  she?    Is  she?" 

How  dare  she  tell  him  worse  than  this  !  She  shook 
her  head  without  speaking.  But  it  was  enough ;  Mer- 
cede lived,  and  his  terror  passed.  Dropping  back  into 
his  chair,  his  gaze  remained  fixed  but  less  strained. 
His  child  was  not  dead.  He  could  bear  anything  else. 

3 


34  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Agatha  felt  that  this  moment  of  reaction  was  the 
moment  of  his  greatest  strength,  and  she  hastened  to 
speak. 

"  He  has  left  her  !  " 

The  soldier's  expression  did  not  change  for  fully 
a  minute  as  he  eyed  Agatha  and  smoked  rapidly. 
But  gradually  and  painfully  he  comprehended  ; 
then  he  swung  his  chair  away  a  little  and  laughed 
scornfully. 

"  Deserted  his  wife,  has  he  ?  "  he  said  in  a  quiet 
voice,  —  "  deserted  the  Count  Ricci's  daughter ;  it 's 
perfect ! " 

"  There  is  something  worse." 

"  Ah  !  something  worse,  is  there  ?  What  else  has 
my  son-in-law  done  to  annoy  his  wife  besides  desert- 
ing her?" 

Agatha  moved  a  little  that  she  might  see  his  face 
and  if  possible  soften  the  blow. 

"  He  has  deceived  her,"  she  began  ;  "  he  never  — 

"  Deceived  her ! "  he  exclaimed,  turning  suddenly. 
"  How  ?  Was  n't  that  letter  hers  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Then  she  was  married,  for  my  daughter  was 
never  a  liar.  Had  he  another  wife  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  the  civil  marriage  was  never  —  " 

"  Agatha ! "  and  his  eyes  blazed. 

"  Here  is  her  letter  ;  will  you  read  it?  " 

As  she  held  it  out  he  looked  at  it  but  did  not  take 
it.  While  he  hesitated  she  anxiously  watched  his 
eyes,  as  their  expression  changed  slowly  from  eager- 
ness to  indecision  and  then  to  haughtiness. 

"  No,"  he  said. 


TWO  INTERVIEWS.  35 

She  dropped  the  letter  upon  the  table  helplessly, 
while  tears  filled  her  eyes. 

"  Then  what  can  she  do  ?  " 

The  words  were  spontaneous,  but  they  could  not 
have  been  better  chosen.  They  appealed  to  the  ob- 
stinate man  as  no  pleading  or  upbraiding  could  have 
done.  They  were  simple  and  graphic,  and  they  went 
straight  to  their  mark,  touching  both  his  manliness 
and  his  pride. 

He  arose  and  paced  back  and  forth,  while  the  bit- 
terness that  had  controlled  him  during  the  past  few 
years  battled  with  the  emotions  Mercede's  position 
had  awakened. 

At  last,  reaching  out  his  hand,  he  took  the  letter 
and  walked  firmly  to  the  house. 

An  hour  later  Agatha  sat  in  the  broad  corridor  at 
the  foot  of  the  stairs,  listening  to  the  footsteps  of  her 
uncle  as  he  paced  his  room.  How  closely  connected 
with  the  human  drama  is  a  measured  tread ! 

As  the  clock  struck  the  half  hour  after  ten,  the 
Count  rang  for  his  valet  and  ordered  the  dog-cart 
to  be  brought  at  once.  In  a  few  minutes  he  came 
slowly  down  the  stairs,  and  as  the  strong  light  from  a 
window  fell  upon  his  face  Agatha's  heart  throbbed 
with  pity.  He  had  evidently  suffered  much  since 
she  had  last  seen  him.  His  manner  was  unnaturally 
deliberate  and  formal,  and  the  expression  of  his  eyes 
was  cold. 

"  I  am  going  to  Como,"  he  said  quietly. 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  best,"  was  her  reply. 

"  Then  I  am  going  to  Mercede,  and  so  is  he." 


36  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Agatha  was  thinking  rapidly  but  said  nothing,  and 
presently  he  added,  — 

"  After  the  civil  marriage  I  will  send  Mercede  to 
Rome." 

The  carriage  was  announced,  and  while  waiting  for 
his  overcoat  to  be  brought  he  lit  a  cigarette  and 
smoked  calmly. 

Agatha  walked  with  him  to  the  carriage,  and  as  he 
bent  and  kissed  her  she  found  courage  to  speak. 

"  Suppose  he  objects?"  she  said. 

The  Count  raised  his  eyebrows  slightly  and  con- 
tinued to  pull  on  his  gloves  as  he  replied  quietly, — 

"  He  and  I  will  settle  our  relations  before  we  go 
to  Mercede.  Those  once  settled  he  won't  object  to 
anything! " 

She  was  silent  again,  while  he  mounted  to  his  place 
and  gathered  up  the  reins. 

"  I  hope  he  won't  give  you  much  trouble,"  she 
sighed  anxiously. 

The  General  showed  animation  for  the  first  time. 
He  turned  quickly  and  his  eyes  grew  bright. 

"  Don't  imagine,"  he  exclaimed,  u  because  a  girl 
once  trifled  with  me,  that  now  a  man  may !  "  He 
struck  his  horse  savagely  and  it  sprang  forward. 


CHAPTER  III. 

NEIGHBORLY  VISITS. 

WHEN  Filippo  made  his  bow  to  Agatha  before 
luncheon  a  few  days  later,  he  was  glad  that  her  face 
fulfilled  the  measure  of  his  expectation. 

44  Miss  Page  is  a  neighbor  of  mine,"  said  the 
Duchess,  diplomatically. 

44 1  know  that  she  is,"  was  his  astonishing  reply. 

44  Yes  ?  "  and  although  her  tone  was  neutral  her 
face  betrayed  some  vexation. 

"  Yes,"  he  continued  in  answer  to  Agatha's  look 
of  inquiry ;  44 1  saw  you,  Signorina,  the  other  day 
playing  the  violin  to  an  old  priest.  I  have  felt  ever 
since  that  I  behaved  rather  shabbily,  and  I  am  glad 
of  this  chance  to  apologize." 

44  Where  were  you  ?  "  she  asked,  and  as  he  hesi- 
tated the  expressive  eyes  opened  wider.  In  truth, 
he  was  not  thinking  of  her  question,  but  of  the  liquid 
quality  of  her  voice. 

44 1  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  presently  ;  44 1  was 
walking  up  the  —  that  is  —  it  was  through  a  little 
iron  gate  in  the  wall."  He  actually  showed  em- 
barrassment, to  the  delight  of  the  Duchess. 

"  It  was  the  day  on  which  I  arrived  from  Rome," 
she  said  simply,  "  and  I  was  trying  a  new  violin  with 


38  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Padre  Sacconi,  who  was  my  first  master;  did  you 
listen  long  ?  " 

"  That 's  just  it,"  he  replied ;  "  I  am  ashamed  to 
say  I  lingered  much  longer  than  was  necessary." 

Her  face  grew  bright.  "  Then  you  saw  his  pleas- 
ure perhaps  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  did  ;  "  and  there  was  marked  deference  in 
his  manner  as  he  added,  "  the  whole  thing  touched 
me  very  much." 

"  Was  n't  he  sweet  about  it  ?  "  she  said. 

"  His  happiness  and  gratitude  were  certainly  as 
sincere  as  could  be." 

"  Yes,  it  also  made  me  very  happy  ; "  and  she  gave 
a  little  sigh  of  contentment. 

"  I  don't  wonder ! "  and  as  the  Duchess  noticed 
his  tone  and  eyes  she  maliciously  struck  her  bell. 

The  footman  came,  so  she  asked  him  if  the  Duke 
had  returned. 

"  Has  lie  gone  out,  Signora  ?" 

"  That 's  what  I  wish  to  know,"  she  replied ;  "  how- 
ever, let  us  have  luncheon  as  soon  as  possible." 

Filippo  had  sometimes  believed  that  he  was  be- 
coming blase".  The  novels  of  Matilda  Serao,  Daudet, 
and  others,  which  his  friends  discussed  with  enthu- 
siasm, awakened  in  him  only  a  languid  interest, 
and  he  was  conscious  of  preferring  the  society  of 
his  sister,  to  whom  he  was  devotedly  attached,  to 
that  of  any  younger  woman.  He  still  enjoyed  the 
companionship  of  children,  and  he  and  his  little  niece 
Gaeta  were  great  friends  ;  but  this  fact  he  regarded 
as  additional  evidence  that  he  had  drifted  unscathed 
through  the  rapids  in  which  most  of  his  companions 


NEIGHBORLY    VISITS.  39 

had  lost  their  identity.  He  believed  the  reason  of 
this  to  be  that  he  was  exceptionally  impervious  to  the 
influence  of  feminine  charms. 

But  the  young  stoic  had  not  been  in  Agatha's 
presence  fifteen  minutes  when  he  found  his  eyes  con- 
stantly seeking  her  face  ;  and  at  luncheon,  as  a  ray  of 
sunshine  fell  across  her  hair,  revealing  its  gold,  lie 
was  betrayed  into  an  undisguised  stare,  that  caused 
the  young  visitor  to  flush  slightly,  arid  presently  her 
hand  stole  over  her  locks  to  discover  if  one  of  them 
had  escaped. 

After  luncheon  the  Duke  excused  himself  and, 
as  usual,  disappeared  with  Gaeta.  The  Duchess 
watched  them  affectionately  until  they  were  out 
of  sight,  and  then  proposed  a  stroll  to  the  coffee- 
house, a  suggestion  which  Loreno  warmly  seconded. 
Although  Agatha's  slender  figure  and  erect  carnage 
made  her  appear  tall,  Filippo  stood  well  above  her 
as  he  walked  at  her  side  past  the  flower-beds  and 
across  the  lawn. 

"  They  make  a  striking  couple,"  thought  the 
Duchess. 

When  they  reached  the  coffee-house,  a  picturesque 
little  building  overhanging  the  valley,  the  Duchess 
seated  herself  on  a  bench  upon  the  veranda,  while 
Agatha  and  Loreno  went  on  a  few  yards  farther 
to  a  wall  upon  the  brow  of  the  hill,  leaning  upon 
which  they  gazed  at  the  peaceful  scene  far  below. 
Presently  the  sound  of  children's  voices  floated 
up  to  them,  and  Filippo  saw  his  companion's  face 
brighten. 

"  You  are  fond  of  children,"  he  said. 


40  AGATHA  PAGE. 

"  Yes,  of  course ;  and  the  children  about  here  are 
such  pretty  little  things." 

"  Everything  connected  with  this  place  seems 
especially  lovely  to  you,  I  suppose." 

"  I  am  very  fond  of  it  all,  for  I  live  here  fully  half 
the  year." 

"  I  begin  to  think  I  also  might  become  very  fond 
of  it." 

She  turned  and  looked  at  him  with  frank  pleasure. 
"  I  'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,  for  I  take  a  personal 
pride  in  the  place.  Just  look  at  the  plain  as  it 
sweeps  far  off  toward  the  south  like  a  great  green 
sea !  Does  n't  it  appear  to  be  broken  into  waves  by 
the  breeze  from  those  rugged  old  mountains  at  the 
head  of  the  valley  ?  Then  see  those  two  little  lakes 
that  seem  to  be  looking  right  up  at  us, —  the  blue 
eyes  of  the  Brianza,  I  call  them,  —  and  those  towers 
and  steeples  on  the  horizon  !  I  suppose  they  are  mere 
silhouettes  to  you,  but  I  know  each  one  intimately. 
And  see  that  picturesque  old  monastery  up  there  to 
our  right, —  that  building  with  the  square  campanile 
on  the  hill  toward  Como ;  and  beyond  the  hill  see 
that  distant  bank  of  white,  like  clouds :  it  is  the  Alps. 
Isn't  it  beautiful?  Do  you  wonder  that  I  delight 
in  it?" 

"  Indeed  I  do  not ! "  he  responded  heartily. 

He  had  watched  her  with  growing  interest  and 
pleasure,  and  as  her  enthusiasm  had  tempted  her  out 
of  her  quiet  of  manner  and  speech,  his  .admiration 
had  been  squarely  challenged.  The  Duchess  smiled 
quietly  at  his  absorbed  interest,  and  began  to  think  she 
had  no  need  to  waste  sympathy  on  her  little  neighbor. 


NEIGHBORLY  VISITS.  41 

Filippo  glanced  toward  his  sister  but  did  not  no- 
tice her  amusement,  for  he  was  looking  beyond  her 
at  the  lawn,  and  contrasting  the  women  he  last  met 
there  with  this  lovely  girl. 

"  I  was  unjust  to  Costanza,"  he  thought ;  "  for  she 
has  some  neighbors  who  interest  me." 

The  following  day  a  dog-cart  drove  up  to  the 
Villa  Ricci,  and  Loreno  left  cards  for  the  Count  and 
his  niece.  While  driving  back  through  a  grove  of 
chestnuts  that  lay  between  the  house  and  the  lodge 
he  came  face  to  face  with  Agatha  and  Padre  Sacconi. 
The  young  girl  had  been  visiting  a  sick  woman  in 
the  village,  and  the  priest  meeting  her  had  walked 
home  with  her  by  the  high-road.' 

Loreno  pulled  up,  and  throwing  the  reins  to  the 
groom  sprang  out. 

"  Good-morning,"  he  said ;  "  have  you  been  for  a 
walk?" 

Agatha  held  out  her  hand.  "  Only  a  short  one," 
she  replied.  "Padre  Sacconi,  let  me  present  the 
Marquis  Loreno.  This  is  the  gentleman  who  at- 
tended our  matine'e." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  the  priest,  heartily  ;  "  then,  Mar- 
chese,  you  are  fortunate,  for  we  are  exclusive.  But 
you  must  have  been  very  quiet." 

"  A  young  peasant  in  my  part  of  the  country,"  he 
replied,  "chanced  one  day  upon  a  maid  who  was 
painting  the  reflection  of  the  clouds  upon  the  glassy 
surface  of  a  stream.  Fascinated  by  her  charms,  the 
youth  drew  nearer  and  nearer  until  he  stood  almost 
at  her  side.  Turning  quickly,  the  fair  artist  saw  him 


42  AGATHA   PAGE. 

and  instantly  disappeared.  Nor  did  he  ever  look 
upon  her  again,  although  he  hovered  near  the  same 
spot  day  after  day  until  at  last  he  became  mad 
through  lamenting  the  folly  which  had  cost  him  the 
vision  of  an  angel." 

The  priest  smiled.  "Well  answered,"  he  said, 
pronouncing  his  words  deliberately.  "And  you. 
profiting  by  your  neighbor's  experience,  win  the 
chance  of  turning  a  pretty  compliment.  From  your 
accent  I  judge  you  to  be  Roman." 

"  So  I  am,  though  I  have  a  villa  near  Varese  and 
am  very  fond  of  Lombardy." 

Padre  Sacconi  believed  Lombardy  to  be  the  love- 
liest spot  in  the  world,  and  this  sentiment  of  Loreno's 
confirmed  the  favorable  impression  which  his  frank 
face  and  easy  bearing  had  already  made  upon  the 
old  man. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  in  reply,  "  God  has  indeed  blessed 
Lombardy  without  stint.  And  so  you  prefer  our 
northern  lakes  to  the  stretches  of  sea  around  Naples  ? 
So  do  I.  Sorrento,  Castellammare,  and  the  rest  are 
charming  for  a  time,  but  I  always  rejoice  to  get  back 
to  these  quiet  scenes." 

"  Won't  you  return  to  the  house  ?  "  asked  Agatha, 
turning  to  Loreno.  "  I  regret  that  my  uncle  is  away 
from  home,  but  Padre  Sacconi  will  represent  him.  I 
have  promised  to  give  the  Padre  a  granita,  and  per- 
haps you  will  join  us." 

Filippo  expressed  his  pleasure,  and  Agatha  led  the 
way.  She  turned  into  various  paths  winding  through 
the  venerable  grove,  until  suddenly  they  reached  a 
circular  opening,  no  larger  than  a  room  of  moderate 


NEIGHBORLY  VISITS.  43 

size,  containing  a  table  and  arm-chairs  carved  out  of 
granite.  From  this  little  resting-place  the  path  ran  on 
with  gradual  ascent  through  a  dense  arbor  of  holly. 
Peering  up  the  long  vista  framed  by  this  arbor,  Loreno 
discovered  a  flight  of  steps  rising  lazily  until  only  a 
distant  spot  of  light  marked  the  level  of  the  terrace 
to  which  they  led. 

Entering  the  arbor,  they  walked  slowly  to  the 
steps,  having  mounted  which  the}7  emerged  upon  the 
green  terrace  dotted  with  spreading  palms  and  mag- 
nolia-trees. 

Loreno  looked  about  him  with  interest.  The  ter- 
race was  large  and  nearly  square.  In  front  of  him 
was  the  house,  on  one  side  were  green-houses,  on 
the  other  a  row  of  old  oak-trees,  while  in  the  centre 
a  fountain  of  clear  water  cooled  the  air.  Under  a 
palm  stood  a  table  and  two  or  three  wicker  chairs, 
to  which  Agatha  led  them. 

As  she  walked  toward  the  house  Filippo  followed 
her  with  his  eyes,  and  when  she  disappeared  he  cast 
an  observant  glance  at  her  home. 

"It's  a  comfortable-looking  house,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "  and  that  ivy  is  rather  an  English  touch. 
I  wonder  which  room  is  hers?  Probably  the  one 
with  the  flowers  in  the  window  and  the  blue  curtain- 
ribbons." 

The  fact  that  he  had  a  companion  flashed  into  his 
mind,  and  thereupon  by  way  of  conversation  he  asked 
his  opinion  concerning  the  attitude  of  the  Vatican 
towards  Germany. 

Agatha  presently  came  across  the  lawn  followed 
by  a  servant  bearing  ices,  and  stood  behind  the  chair 


44  AGATHA  PAGE. 

of  the  priest  listening  to  his  final  words.  She  loved 
at  such  times  to  watch  his  face  brighten  under  the 
influence  of  his  thought.  As  she  heard  him  speaking 
of  European  politics,  quite  unconscious  of  Loreuo's 
intimate  knowledge  of  the  subject,  she  glanced  fur- 
tively at  the  young  Marquis.  She  saw  only  serious 
attention,  and  was  glad ;  for  she  was  inclined  to  like 
him,  and  it  would  have  offended  her  had  he  appeared 
indifferent  to  the  opinions  of  one  for  whom  she  felt 
such  respect. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MERCEDE. 

As  the  days  passed  by  and  Count  Ricci  neither 
came  home  nor  wrote,  Agatha  grew  more  and  more 
anxious.  She  longed  to  write  to  Mercede  for  news, 
but  the  silence  of  her  uncle,  as  well  as  his  continued 
absence,  convinced  her  that  serious  and  absorbing 
measures  were  in  progress,  into  which  mere  eager- 
ness for  information  had  no  right  to  intrude. 

On  one  point  her  mind  dwelt  constantly,  with 
varying  hope  and  misgiving,  and  that  was  upon  the 
question  of  Mercede's  return  to  Erba. 

She  was  confident  that  the  love  between  the  Count 
and  his  child  had  not  been  seriously  weakened  by 
their  estrangement.  She  could  not  believe  that  the 
Count's  bitterness  could  withstand  the  presence  of 
his  daughter  and  her  child,  nor  could  she  doubt  that 
Mercede's  pride  would  be  subdued  by  this  evidence 
of  her  father's  affection.  Even  if  the  Count  should 
succeed  in  having  the  civil  marriage  performed, 
Agatha  did  not  believe  that  her  high-spirited  cousin 
would  consent  to  remain  with  a  husband  she  must 
despise,  nor  did  she  believe  that  the  Count  or  the 
lieutenant  himself  would  favor  such  an  adjustment 
of  the  matter.  Therefore  Mercede  would  be  thrown 


46  AGATHA   PAGE. 

upon  her  father's  protection,  and  where  would  he 
so  naturally  bring  her,  and  where  would  Mercede's 
heart  so  naturally  turn,  as  back  to  her  old  home  ? 

In  this  hope  Agatha  caused  her  cousin's  former 
room  to  be  set  in  order,  and  prepared  an  adjoining 
room  for  the  child.  Each  morning  she  had  them 
opened  to  the  sunshine,  and  with  her  own  hands 
placed  flowers  about  them.  It  was  with  keen  ex- 
pectation, therefore,  that  one  night  she  received  a 
telegram  sent  by  the  Count  from  Rome  announc- 
ing his  return  on  the  following  day.  The  telegram 
said  nothing  about  Mercede  ;  but  this  fact  did 
not  discourage  her,  and  she  caused  the  same  prep- 
arations as  before  to  be  made  for  her  cousin's 
return. 

At  the  appointed  time  the  Count  arrived,  but  he 
was  alone. 

Agatha  welcomed  him  at  the  door  and  tried  to 
hide  her  disappointment.  He  stepped  out  of  the 
carriage  heavily,  seeming  tired  and  worn  ;  yet  his 
face  was  calm,  and  she  concluded  that  he  had  been 
successful.  He  went  immediately  to  his  study,  where 
she  followed  him.  Laying  a  paper  upon  the  table, 
he  looked' into  her  eager  face  and  said  quietly, — 

"  That  is  Mercede's  marriage  certificate.  She  is  in 
Home  with  her  child." 

"  I  hoped  you  would  change  your  mind  and  bring 
them  home  with  you." 

"No,"    he    replied,   "not    here,  —  at    least,    not 

yet." 

His  tone  as  well  as  his  words  led  her  to  hope  that 
his  feeling  toward  Mercede  was  less  bitter,  and  she 


MERCEDE.  47 

was   more   than  ever  at  a  loss  to  understand  their 
continued  estrangement. 

But  it  was  not  so  difficult  to  understand,  even 
theoretically  ;  indeed,  a  less  charitable  mind  would 
quickly  have  fathomed  the  reason. 

The  Count's  determination  to  obtain  justice  for 
Mercede  had  not  been  prompted  entirely  by  quick- 
ened love,  since  a  few  moments'  reflection  had  shown 
him  that  unless  she  were  made  a  legal  wife  her  dis- 
grace would  fall  upon  his  name.  Yet  his  heart  was 
wrung  by  her  misery  ;  and  had  she  shown  ample  pen- 
itence and  made  it  easy  to  reconcile  proper  regard 
for  his  outraged  authority  with  full  forgiveness,  he 
would  have  welcomed  the  chance  of  restoring  her 
to  the  old  place  both  in  his  heart  and  home.  But 
Mercede  was  morally  unable  to  appreciate  the  ex- 
tent of  her  wrong-doing.  She  had  never  been  taught 
that  she  actually  owed  consideration  to  either  duty 
or  authority.  She  failed,  except  in  a  feeble  and  sen- 
timental way,  to  recognize  that  she  had  any  obliga- 
tion to  others.  She  knew  that  she  had  disappointed 
her  father  in  regard  to  her  marriage,  and  at  first  re- 
gretted the  depth  of  the  wound  she  had  inflicted  ; 
but  she  soon  began  to  think  that  he  was  nursing  his 
hurt,  and  as  weeks  went  by  she  decided  that  he  was 
sulking,  and  at  her  expense.  His  quick  response  to 
the  news  of  her  disgrace  did  not  touch  her  heart,  for 
she  reasoned,  correctly  enough,  that  no  father  would 
be  inactive  when  the  honor  of  his  child  was  at  stake. 
She  loved  him  deeply,  however ;  and  had  he  given 
ample  evidence  of  the  regret  she  believed  he  must 
feel  when  he  learned  what  she  had  suffered,  and 


48  AGATHA   PAGE. 

when  he  looked  upon  the  grandchild  he  had  ignored, 
she  would  have  been  disposed  to  meet  him  part  way, 
and  make  such  acknowledgment  as  was  consistent 
with  her  notions  of  her  own  self-respect. 

Is  it  strange,  therefore,  that  they  did  not  renew 
the  old  relation  ?  In  the  beginning  each  waited  for 
the  other,  and  as  the  days  passed,  each  stubborn  heart 
justified  itself  at  the  expense  of  the  other,  while  love, 
rebuked,  shrouded  its  face. 

Agatha,  divining  little  of  all  this,  longed  to  hear 
something  of  his  visit  and  of  Mercede  ;  but  she  waited 
for  her  uncle  to  speak. 

He  stood  by  the  table  with  his  hand  upon  the 
paper  and  seemed  lost  in  thought.  Presently  he 
placed  the  certificate  within  his  safe,  which  he  closed 
and  locked. 

"  Have  you  any  news  for  me  ?  "  he  asked,  with 
assumed  spirit,  seating  himself  upon  the  lounge. 

"  Nothing  of  importance ;  every  one  is  well ;  I 
have  some  letters  for  you ;  Padre  Sacconi  has  been 
here  almost  every  day,  and  —  Oh  yes,  I  have  a  piece 
of  news,  after  all !  " 

He  tried  to  appear  interested. 

"  Yes,  and  what  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"  I  have  a  card  for  you,  left  by  the  Marquis  Loreno." 

His  interest  became  more  genuine. 

"  I  met  him  at  the  Villa  Faviola  and  he  called  the 
next  day." 

"  The  Marquis  Loreno,  indeed  !  I  have  heard  of 
him,"  he  paused,  and  she  waited  with  fixed  gaze, 
"favorably.  How  were  you  impressed?" 

"  Padre  Sacconi  and  I  liked  him." 


MERCEDE.  49 

"  Oh !     Come  sit  here  and  tell  me  about  it.     Was 
Padre  Sacconi  at  the  Duke  Faviola's  ?  " 

"  No  —  he  —  that  is,  we  met  the  Marquis  after  he 
had  left  cards  here." 

"  And  the  Marquis  came  back  with  you?  " 

"Yes." 

"  And  the  Padre  and  you  talked  him  over  after- 
ward?" 

"  Yes,  we  spoke  of  him  the  next  day." 

He  smiled  slightly.  "  Then  the  gentlemen  left 
together  the  day  before  ?  " 

"Yes,  they  did;  but  how  could  you  know  this?  " 

"  Did  the  Padre  think  the  young  Marquis  hand- 
some ?  " 

"  Yes  —  that  is,  he  said  he  was  fine-looking  and 
intelligent." 

"  And  have  you  usually  found  the  Padre's  taste 
good  ?  " 

She  hesitated  and  flushed  slightly. 

"  I  don't  remember  ever  having  asked  him  before." 

"  Was  your  own  opinion  so  uncertain  that  you 
needed  the  priest's?" 

She  glanced  up  quickly  and  caught  a  merry  twinkle 
in  the  Count's  eye. 

"  Oh,  Uncle,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  a  shame  to 
make  fun  of  me  ! " 

He  passed  his  arm  around  her  and  kissed  her  fore- 
head. "  When  do  you  expect  to  see  this  young  man 
again  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Never !  now  don't  try  to  tease  me  any  more.  I 
really  did  n't  talk  to  him  much ;  he  and  Padre  Sacconi 
seemed  to  take  a  great  fancy  to  each  other." 

4 


50  AGATHA    PAGE. 

*'  If  he  likes  old  men,  possibly  I  may  interest 
him  ;  may  induce  him  to  come  here  occasionally, 
and  even  —  " 

"  Please,  stop  !  "  —  her  tone  was  quite  serious,  — 
"he  isn't  just  the  sort  of  man  to  joke  about.  But 
you  don't  think  I  was  silly  in  speaking  about  him  to 
Padre  Sacconi,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  my  child  ;  not  at  all,"  he  said.  "  Al- 
ways speak  your  thoughts  honestly  and  be  your 
simple  transparent  self." 

He  stroked  her  fine  hair,  and  each  remained  quiet 
for  some  moments.  Presently  the  old  man  sighed. 
She  believed  he  was  thinking  of  the  child  he  had  so 
often  caressed  in  the  same  way,  and  she  yearned  to 
profit  by  the  moment  and  speak  of  her. 

"  Uncle,"  she  began  gently,  "  why  did  you  bring 
me  to  your  home  when  I  was  alone  ?  " 

"  Because  I  pitied  you,  and  you  were  my  sister's 
child,"  he  answered  unsuspiciously. 

"  You  pitied  me  because  I  was  alone  ?  " 

"  Precisely." 

"  And  protected  me  because  I  was  your  niece  ?  " 

"  Naturally." 

"  Would  you  do  it  now?  " 

"  Now  I  would  do  it  for  your  own  sweet  sake." 

"  Uncle !  " —  she  leaned  forward  and  gazed  wistfully 
into  his  face,  —  "  some  one  else  is  alone  and  has  sad 
need  of  you.  Some  one  else  —  No,  dear  Uncle,  don't 
leave  me  ;  don't  be  angry  ;  you  just  told  me  to  speak 
my  thoughts  honestly.  Mercede  is  the  same  old  Mer- 
cede.  She  has  the  same  intense  love  for  you,  the 
same  pride  in  your  name.  She  has  been  misled,  but 


ME R  CEDE,  51 

what  of  it  ?  Can't  you  forgive  a  mere  girl  a  senti- 
mental folly?  You  know  what  you  have  suffered; 
she  can't  have  suffered  less.  I  feel  sure  that  she 
longs  to  come  home  and  that  you  long  to  have  her 
back.  It  should  be  so  ;  nothing  is  right  as  it  is. 
Every  one  is  unhappy,  and  there  seerns  to  be  no 
reason  for  it." 

As  he  listened  he  was  swayed  alternately  by  pride 
and  self-condemnation.  His  was  an  arbitrary  nature, 
and  false  shame  taught  him  that  to  relent  was  weak. 
Therefore,  while  his  heart  yearned  for  Mercede,  he 
nevertheless  sought  to  justify  the  position  he  had 
taken.  She  had  given  no  token  of  repentance,  so  he 
told  himself,  and  how  could  any  one  reasonably  ask 
him  to  restore  her  to  her  old  place  ?  But  why  should 
he  be  called  upon  to  discuss  the  matter,  much  less  to 
justify  himself?  His  reasons  were  his  own,  and  he 
had  given  Agatha  plainly  to  understand  that  he  de- 
sired to  have  the  subject  dismissed.  That  she  should 
now  attempt  to  stir  it  up  again  and  unsettle  his  mind, 
produced  a  feeling  of  sudden  irritation  which  over- 
shadowed all  other  considerations.  He  turned  indig- 
nantly and  looked  her  full  in  the  eye. 

Had  she  faltered  he  would  have  reproved  her 
sharply  for  her  temerity,  but  her  gaze  was  as  steady 
as  his.  The  issue  was  simple  and  sharp.  He  in- 
tended to  bury  the  subject  here  and  now  ;  she  would 
not  permit  it.  It  was  a  conflict  of  will,  and  hers  was 
the  stronger.  Although  his  eyes  remained  fixed  upon 
hers,  his  lips  were  dumb. 

The  decisive  moment  passed,  leaving  her  the  victor. 

Yet  he  could  not  yield  without  making  terras  ;  few 


52  AGATHA   PAGE. 

men  can.  The  young  girl  whose  calm  eyes  were 
searching  his  did  not  fathom  his  mental  process ; 
she  merely  felt  keenly  and  trusted  her  intuitions. 
Something  told  her  that  she  had  won,  but  she  believed 
it  due  to  his  innate  goodness.  He  also  knew  that  the 
victory  was  hers,  but  he  sought  solace  for  his  pride 
in  capitulation. 

"  I  should  have  been  better  pleased,"  he  said,  "  had 
you  let  this  subject  rest  for  the  present.  It  has  ab- 
sorbed me  for  some  days  and  I  am  tired  of  it." 

"  Then  don't  let  us  speak  of  it  any  more  to-day," 
she  replied.  "  But  may  I  write  to  Mercede  and  give 
her  your  love  ?  " 

He  hesitated. 

"  And  would  there  be  any  harm  in  my  saying  that 
I'm  dying  to  see  her,  and  that  she  mustn't  stay  in 
Rome  too  long?" 

"I  don't  know  that  there  would." 

"  And  that  you  also  want  her  ?  " 

At  another  time  her  persistency  might  have  irri- 
tated him  ;  but  having  yielded  what  he  had,  to  yield 
the  rest  was  easy,  for  his  heart  leaped  at  the  thought 
of  again  having  his  child.  As  Agatha  folded  her 
hands  around  his  arm  and  looked  into  his  face  like  an 
angel  of  mercy,  his  pent-up  love  and  his  manliness 
responded  to  her  silent  plea  and  swept  away  the 
remnant  of  his  pride. 

"  Tell  Mercede  I  want  her,"  he  exclaimed,  in  a 
broken  voice.  "  Tell  her  to  come  home  ! " 

Mercede  sat  in  her  old  home,  after  an  absence  of 
five  years,  reading  her  cousin's  letter. 


MERCEDE.  53 

The  palace  was  one  which  had  been  in  her  father's 
family  for  generations,  and  did  not  differ  essentially 
from  the  majority  of  solid  old  structures  which  contain 
the  homes  of  the  Roman  aristocracy.  It  was  built  of 
brick  and  stone  around  a  large  paved  court.  The 
stairs  were  high  and  imposing,  and  at  every  landing 
an  ancient  and  mutilated  bust  seemed  either  to  appeal 
for  a  merciful  judgment  upon  its  deformity,  or  to  bear 
its  suffering  in  the  jaunty  spirit  of  its  compatriot 
Mucius. 

The  rooms  of  the  Ricci  apartment  were  large,  and 
furnished  in  rather  sombre  colors.  There  was  an  air  of 
dignity,  or  better,  of  seriousness,  pervading  the  place, 
which,  judging  from  the  portraits  distributed  along 
the  panelled  walls,  was  characteristic  of  the  Count's 
family.  The  room  in  which  Mercede  sat  was  what 
had  formerly  been  her  sitting-room,  and  its  warm 
color  made  a  rich  setting  to  her  dark  beauty. 

She  was  a  typical  Roman  in  the  first  years  of  wo- 
manhood, with  full  figure,  thick  coils  of  black  hair, 
fine  eyes  and  teeth,  rich  color,  and  possessing  by  na- 
ture the  rapidity  and  range  of  expression  of  a  finished 
actress. 

The  letter  affected  her  in  quite  a  different  way 
from  that  which  Agatha  had  anticipated. 

"  The  erring  child  may  return,  may  she  ?  "  was  her 
bitter  exclamation.  "  Turned  off  for  years  because 
she  preferred  to  choose  her  own  husband,  and  only 
invited  to  resume  her  rights  when  she  must  return 
without  him !  No,  sir !  your  daughter  has  some  of 
her  honored  father's  pride,  and  will  send  you  a  mes- 
sage that  will  open  your  eyes." 


54  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Her  unhappiness,  especially  during  the  past  two 
weeks,  had  worn  sadly  upon  her  nerves,  and  the 
letter  excited  her  unduly.  She  felt  this,  and  strug- 
gled to  be  calmer.  She  tried  to  read  ;  to  amuse  her 
boy ;  to  sew ;  but  it  was  useless.  She  could  not 
banish  thought,  and  soon  abandoned  herself  to  the 
bitterness  which  possessed  her. 

"  Think  of  it !  "  she  exclaimed  passionately.  "I  — 
a  Ricci  —  am  one  of  your  women  to  be  pitied.  Per 
Dio  !  "  and  springing  to  her  feet,  she  paced  the  room, 
uttering  her  scorn  audibly  from  time  to  time.  "  Even 
my  father  receives  me  as  a  Magdalen,  so  what  need 
I  expect  from  the  rest  of  the  world  ?  Yet  I  don't 
blame  them.  They  judge  according  to  their  standard, 
and,"  she  added,  laughing  bitterly,  "my  marriage 
can't  be  called  dazzling." 

She  threw  open  the  window  to  get  air,  and  stood 
for  a  moment  looking  into  the  street. 

"  Come,  Francesco,"  she  said,  "  let  us  go  out. 
Mamma  needs  to  walk." 

The  child  had  been  quietly  watching  some  fish  in  a 
globe  upon  the  table,  quite  unmindful  of  her  excite- 
ment, to  which  he  had  grown  accustomed  during  the 
past  year. 

They  walked  aimlessly  but  rapidly  until,  at  last, 
her  passion  was  cooled,  and  being  near  the  Ponte 
Sisto  she  yielded  to  the  child's  wish  to  go  upon  the 
bridge  and  see  the  boats. 

They  stood  for  some  time  on  the  footway,  watch- 
ing the  dredging  of  the  river. 

"What  are  they  doing,  mamma?"  asked  the  child. 

"  Digging  up  the  clay." 


MERCEDE.  55 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  To  make  the  river  deeper." 

"  What  is  clay  ?  " 

"  Clay  ?     It 's  damp  earth." 

"  What  do  they  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  make  marbles  for  little  boys  to  play 
with,  and  pipes ;  and  some  men  make  pretty  figures 
with  it." 

"  Figures,  —  what  are  they  like  ?  " 

"  Why,  they  are  shapes ;  some  are  little  boys  just 
like  you." 

"I  should  like  so  much  to  have  one  to  play  with!" 
exclaimed  the  child.  "  Won't  you  get  me  one, 
mamma?  " 

"  You  don't  understand  yet,  caro  mio ;  you  are  too 
young." 

"  But  I  '11  try  to  understand  if  you  '11  get  me  one. 
Can't  you  make  them  ?  " 

Mercede  smiled  slightly,  but  suddenly  grew  serious. 

A  train  of  thought  had  been  awakened  which, 
although  interesting,  made  no  strong  impression  at 
first.  In  her  childhood  she  had  shown  cleverness 
at  modelling  in  clay  and  wax  ;  and  without  other 
instruction  than  that  gained  by  repeated  visits  to 
the  galleries  of  sculpture,  she  continued  to  improve, 
until,  during  the  year  before  her  marriage,  she  had 
made  several  busts  which  gave  evidence  of  decided 
talent.  During  the  bitter  experience  following  her 
marriage  she  had  had  no  inclination  for  such  work, 
and  later  she  was  engrossed  in  earning  food  each  day 
for  her  child  and  herself.  She  recalled  and  reviewed 
these  facts,  and  the  more  she  dwelt  upon  them  the 


56  AGATHA   PAGE. 

more  intent  she  became,  until  her  thoughts,  gliding 
swiftly  and  uncontrolled,  left  the  past  and  swept  for- 
ward, and  presently  a  sigh  of  regret  was  stifled  by  an 
•exclamation  of  wonder. 

The  child  looked  up.  "  What  is  it,  mamma  ?  " 
"  Hush,  dear ;  mamma  wishes  to  think  !  " 
If  she  could  do  something  with  her  talent,  what 
then?  was  the  question  she  kept  asking  herself. 
And  now  her  mental  vision  eagerly  scanned  the  path 
her  thought  had  taken,  until  her  head  grew  hot  and 
dizzy.  It  seemed  to  her  that  a  way  had  suddenly 
been  illumined,  which  afforded  her  a  chance  of  es- 
cape from  the  hopeless  misery  of  her  present  life. 
Her  position  was  indeed  insupportable.  Her  disgrace 
was  already  an  open  secret,  and  in  the  autumn  would 
be  public  property.  Everywhere  she  showed  her  face 
she  would  be  pointed  at  with  disrespect,  and  her  story 
would  be  whispered  from  one  to  another,  while  her 
old  associates  would  regard  her  either  with  pity  or  a 
sneer — she  cared  not  which,  for  the  thought  of  one 
was  as  galling  as  the  other.  She  could  not  go  to  her 
father,  for  even  he  offered  her  a  home  as  though  it 
were  a  refuge.  She  had  her  dowry  now,  on  which 
both  Francesco  and  she  could  live  comfortably,  but 
where  could  she  live  happily?  Where  could  she  live 
with  any  hope  except  that  after  many  years,  when 
both  she  and  her  story  had  become  musty,  her  pre- 
sence might  be  tolerated  by  a  few  good-hearted 
friends  ? 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  suppose  she  should  leave 
Rome  and  cultivate  her  talent?  Even  if  she  failed, 
she  would  lose  nothing,  for  her  time  had  no  value. 


ME R  CEDE.  57 

Indeed,  she  would  even  then  have  gained  a  respite 
from  her  unceasing  despair,  and  though  the  result 
were  disappointment  she  could  not  be  sadder  than 
now. 

But  suppose  she  should  succeed  ?  Suppose  she 
should  even  be  able  to  return  to  Rome  some  day,  no 
matter  how  far  away,  when  her  talent  might  turn 
pity  and  sneering  into  acclamation  ?  Was  this  not 
an  object  worth  striving  for  ?  Was  this  chance,  even 
though  desperate,  to  be  thrown  away  ?  Having  once 
nurtured  the  thought,  could  she  sink  back  into  the 
old,  aimless,  hopeless  existence  ?  She  clenched  her 
hands  until  the  fingers  ached,  and  muttered  fiercely, 
"No;  never!  never!" 

Then  she  gave  herself  up  to  enchantment,  and  as 
was  natural  to  her  wilful  nature  refused  even  to  con- 
sider further  any  reasons  which  might  modify  her 
transport.  Presently,  however,  some  details  bearing 
on  her  plan  forced  themselves  upon  her  mind,  but 
she  banished  them  when  they  began  to  be  trouble- 
some. It  was  time  enough  to  ford  a  torrent  when  it 
was  reached.  Upon  one  thing,  however,  she  was 
determined,  —  to  drop  her  name  and  assume  another 
in  its  place ;  and  then,  as  often  happens  at  such  mo- 
ments, her  mind  was  occupied  with  this  unimportant 
question. 

The  name  Andr£  suggested  itself  to  her,  and  she 
repeated  it  several  times,  —  "Madame  Andre" !  Mer- 
cede  Andre  !"  It  sounded  well,  and  would  do  unless 
she  thought  of  a  better,  although  it  sounded  French. 
Yet  why  not?  Would  Paris  not  be  the  best  of  all 
places  for  her  object?  It  would  take  her  away 


58  AGATHA   PAGE. 

from  Italy  altogether,  while  the  advantages  for  her 
work  would  be  good,  aud  the  city  was  large  enough 
to  hide  in. 

Then  London  suggested  itself,  since  she  spoke 
English  quite  as  fluently  as  French  ;  but  her  heart  in- 
clined more  toward  the  brighter  city,  and  she  was  in 
no  humor  to  weigh  reasons.  Yes,  to  Paris  she  would 
go !  Then  her  thoughts  were  turned  again  toward 
the  distant  future,  and  her  enthusiasm  mounted  once 
more  until  it  swept  away  all  restraint  of  imagination, 
and  she  was  confident  that  a  splendid  career  was 
open  to  her. 

She  felt,  not  for  the  first  time,  that  she  was  no 
ordinary  woman.  Circumstances,  bad  luck,  inex- 
perience,—  something,  had  hitherto  kept  her  down; 
but  it  mattered  little  now,  for  her  time  had  come. 
The  thought  overwhelmed  her,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  many  days  she  thanked  God. 

"  Come,  Francesco ! "  she  said  excitedly,  her  beaut}7 
radiant  as  of  old,  "  come  !  let  us  hurry  home,  for 
mamma  must  stop  on  the  way." 

Her  step  had  its  old  firmness,  her  blood  seemed  to 
rush  through  her  veins,  as  she  walked  swiftly  toward 
the  Corso.  An  hour  ago  how  dark  her  future 
seemed  !  Then  there  had  been  nothing — worse  than 
nothing  —  to  look  forward  to.  Now,  how  different! 
Remembering  how  the  new  idea  was  suggested  to 
her,  she  bent  down  and  gratefully  kissed  her  child. 
Stopping  at  a  shop,  she  bought  some  iron  supports 
and  some  clay,  and  then  hurried  home.  She  awaited 
their  arrival  as  patiently  as  she  could,  in  the  mean 
time  arranging  a  provisional  studio  and  posing  Fran- 


MERCEDE.  59 

cesco  in  various  attitudes,  her  heart  at  one  moment 
throbbing  with  wild  hope,  at  the  next  faint  with 
despair.  At  last  the  clay  arrived.  She  kneaded  it 
lovingly,  and  then  began  her  momentous  task.  She 
was  very  serious,  and  firmly  holding  herself  in  check, 
worked  slowly  and  carefully.  The  afternoon  was 
fast  passing,  and  little  Francesco  needed  frequent 
rest.  Mercede  urged  and  commanded,  then  begged 
him  to  be  quiet,  and  he  did  his  best ;  but  the  light 
began  to  grow  dim  before  she  had  finished  blocking 
out  the  head. 

She  worked  all  the  next  day  and  into  the  afternoon 
of  the  day  following ;  then  stood  back  and  critically 
surveyed  the  bust.  To  her  eye  it  seemed  like  the 
child.  In  any  case  she  had  no  patience  to  work 
over  it  longer.  She  must  have  relief  for  the  strain 
upon  her  mind ;  the  matter  must  be  settled  without 
further  delay;  the  work  must  stand  as  it  was,  —  a 
silent  witness  before  the  judge  to  whom  she  would 
intrust  her  fate. 

She  drove  to  the  studio  of  a  sculptor  whom  she 
had  known  before  her  marriage,  and  whose  skill  and 
judgment  in  art  were  not  excelled  in  Rome.  She 
knocked  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  it  was  a  new 
sensation  to  her.  Formerly  when  she  had  visited 
this  studio  she  had  felt  that  to  some  degree  she  was 
patronizing  the  place,  but  this  was  before  she  had 
attempted  any  serious  work  of  her  own ;  now  she 
wondered  at  her  former  arrogance,  and  felt  a  be- 
coming sense  of  humility  as  she  stood  upon  the 
threshold  of  Genius. 

The  artist  was  still  at  work,  and  came  immediately 


60  AGATHA   PAGE. 

from  his  modelling-room  to  receive  her.  He  recog- 
nized her  and  greeted  her  kindly.  She  briefly  stated 
her  wish ;  would  he  come  and  look  at  a  bust  of  her 
boy  she  had  at  home?  He  told  her  that  he  never 
judged  the  work  of  other  artists.  But  this  work,  she 
declared,  was  not  by  an  artist.  He  frowned  slightly 
and  begged  to  be  excused ;  he  really  had  no  time  to 
criticise  amateur  efforts. 

Her  disappointment  was  so  great  that  she  had  dif- 
ficulty in  restraining  her  tears.  He  noticed  this,  and 
although  surprised,  was  touched  by  it ;  his  manner 
softened,  and  he  asked  her  to  follow  him  to  his  mod- 
elling-room, where  they  could  speak  more  privately. 
This  respite  restored  her  courage  and  enabled  her  to 
form  her  decision,  and  when  they  were  seated  she 
told  him  briefly  as  much  of  her  story  as  was  neces- 
sary to  explain  her  position,  and  then  acknowledged 
that  the  work  was  her  own. 

Without  further  delay  the  kind-hearted  man  took 
off  his  blouse  and  prepared  to  go  with  her.  Ten 
minutes  later  they  stood  before  her  work. 

As  she  watched  him  calmly  studying  the  figure,  all 
that  the  moment  portended  rushed  over  her  and  she 
grew  faint;  but  she  would  not,  she  must  not  distract 
his  attention  at  this  supreme  moment,  and  by  force 
of  will  she  conquered. 

At  last  he  spoke :  "  You  say  you  have  never 
studied  ;  is  that  literally  true?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  It 's  almost  incredible  ! "  she  heard  him  say  — 
and  then  her  will  gave  way. 


CHAPTER  V. 

MIGNONETTE  AND   ORCHIDS. 

THE  promise  of  a  genial  season,  written  upon  the 
hillsides  by  the  spring  primrose,  seemed  at  last  ful- 
filled. This  flower  and  its  sweet  sister,  the  violet, 
had  long  since  disappeared  with  the  hepaticas  and 
anemones,  but  the  air  was  still  fragrant  with  wild 
lilies-of-the-valley,  locust-trees,  and  golden  laburnum 
blossoms. 

Agatha  raised  her  eyes  from  the  plant  she  was 
watering  not  far  from  the  house,  and  scanned  the 
branches  of  a  tree  near  by  from  which  the  song  of  a 
nightingale  came. 

"  How  perfectly  you  have  placed  your  nest,  you 
vain  little  thing !  "  she  said  half  aloud.  She  knew  the 
spot  well,  with  its  famous  echo. 

The  half  smile  still  lingered  on  her  lips,  when  she 
was  startled  by  a  voice  just  behind  her. 

"  Good-morning,  Signorina." 

She  turned  and  looked  into  the  fatfe  of  the  Marquis 
Loreno.  She  was  glad  to  see  him,  and  returned  his 
greeting  cordially. 

"  What  an  odd  plant  to  cultivate  ! "  he  said,  glanc- 
ing at  the  vervain  she  had  been  watering.  "  Do  you 


62  AGATHA   PAGE. 

drive  away  ill  spirits  with  it  as  our  respected  ances- 
tors did,  or  do  you  use  it  to  unveil  the  future  ?  " 

"Neither,"  she  answered  gayly ;  "I'm  too  prac- 
tical by  half  —  my  Anglo-Saxon  half.  My  sensible 
English  ancestors  tied  it  around  their  necks  to  ward 
off  disease.  Why,  in  their  day  it  cured  nearly  thirty 
different  complaints,  and  quite  thirty  when  tied  with 
a  white  ribbon." 

"  Then  by  all  means  give  me  a  spray,"  he  pleaded ; 
"  in  common  humanity  you  can't  refuse." 

"  Unfortunately  this  is  an  Italian  vervain." 

"But  don't  you  think  it  worth  trying,  —  say  with 
a  double  quantity  of  white  ribbon  ?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid  not ;  but  I  '11  give  you  a  spray  of 
mignonette  instead  ;  it  heals  bruises." 

He  laughed  quietly.  "  I  must  say  your  language 
of  flowers  is  a  practical  one,"  he  remarked,  walking 
with  her  toward  the  bank  of  mignonette  a  few  steps 
farther  down  the  path. 

"  I  am  half  American,  and  that  must  be  my 
excuse." 

"  But  you  have  sentiment  enough  when  you  are 
with  your  violin." 

"  That  depends,"  she  said  slyly. 

"  Oh,  upon  your  audience  —  yes,  I  see  !  "  and  he 
was  amused  at  his  own  discomfiture. 

Agatha's  heart  misgave  her  lest  she  had  hurt  his 
feelings,  so  she  tried  to  soften  the  impression  he 
seemed  to  have  received. 

"  Perhaps  what  I  mean  is  rather  this,"  she  said 
seriously  :  "  different  natures  find  different  responses 
in  flowers  as  well  as  in  music.  As  I  can't  interpret 


MIGNONETTE  AND   ORCHIDS.  63 

all  music  equally  well,  perhaps  the  appeal  of  certain 
flowers  escapes  me." 

Her  kind  effort  had  a  more  cheering  effect  than 
she  intended,  for  her  companion  broke  into  a  hearty 
laugh. 

"  Upon  my  word,  Miss  Page,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I 
ought  to  be  ashamed  to  find  your  soft-heartedness 
amusing;  but  don't  let  mercy  spoil  so  pretty  a  prick 
as  you  gave  me.  If  I  induce  you  to  fence,  I  must 
abide  by  the  consequences." 

Plucking  a  spray  of  mignonette  she  divided  it,  and 
putting  one  part  in  her  dress  handed  him  the  other. 
"  I  hope  this  spray  will  heal  the  prick,"  she  said. 

As  he  took  it  he  watched  her  eyes ;  but  when  they 
were  upturned  to  his  frankly,  he  caught  no  subtle 
expression  to  give  her  words  additional  weight. 

He  held  the  flower  a  moment  before  speaking.     . 

"  Your  spray  seems  a  little  bigger  than  mine,"  he 
said.  "  Would  you  mind  changing,  —  simply  upon 
medicinal  grounds  ?  " 

She  flushed  slightly, but  without  hesitation  loosened 
her  spray. 

"  There  !  "  she  said ;  "  country  doctors,  I  believe, 
not  only  give  their  own  drugs,  bat  in  big  doses,  and  I 
suppose  I  ought  to  be  consistent." 

He  placed  the  flower  carefully  in  his  button-hole. 

She  held  in  her  hand  the  spray  he  had  given  her, 
and  he  wondered  if  she  would  throw  it  away. 

"  Let  us  go  to  the  house,"  she  said  presently ;  "  I 
wish  to  present  you  to  my  uncle." 

"I  have  already  presented  myself,"  he  replied.  "I 
called  this  morning  to  pay  my  respects  to  the  Count, 


64  AGATHA   PAGE. 

and  he  received  me  most  kindly.  While  we  were 
talking,  the  gardener  caine  to  consult  him,  so  he  sent 
me  out  here,  saying  that  I  should  find  you  and  that 
he  would  join  us  presently." 

He  was  conscious  of  pleasure  as  he  spoke  the  word 
"  us,"  and  wondered  if  he  had  spoken  it  quite  natu- 
rally. Self-consciousness  is  like  yawning:  it  seizes 
its  victim  suddenly,  and  there  is  no  use  trying  to  brow- 
beat it.  Strict  silence  helps  to  disguise  it,  but  to 
speak  is  to  be  lost.  Unfortunately  Loreno  spoke. 

**  It 's  curious,"  he  said  impulsively,  "  to  find  my- 
self here  talking  to  you." 

Agatha  showed  surprise.     u  Why  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Because  — "  He  paused  and  began  to  cast  about 
for  an  answer.  What  could  he  say  ?  He  dare  not 
risk  telling  her  that  he  had  thought  of  her  constantly 
since  the  hour  he  discovered  her,  nor  in  fact  was  he 
prepared  to  go  so  far.  He  was  ashamed  to  turn  his 
remark  into  a  bald  compliment,  and  yet  he  must 
make  some  reply. 

Agatha  was  distressed  as  she  watched  his  embar- 
rassment, but  suddenly  believed  she  had  fathomed  it. 

"  I  think,"  she  ventured,  "  that  you  are  a  little  too 
sensitive  about  having  chanced  upon  me  the  other 
day  while  I  was  playing.  I  really  don't  see  anything 
so  dreadful  in  it ;  was  there  ?  " 

He  accepted  with  alacrity  this  chance  of  extricating 
himself. 

"Any  way,  it's  very  good  of  you  to  treat  it  so 
leniently,"  he  replied. 

"Do  you  play  any  instrument,  or  sing?"  she  asked. 

"I  sing  a  little,  and  I  paint  in  an  amateur  fashion." 


MIGNONETTE  AND  ORCHIDS,  65 

"  What  do  you  paint,  —  landscapes,  or  portraits  ?  " 

"  Portraits,  usually." 

Agatha's  eye  brightened  with  pleasure;  she  had 
felt  sure  that  he  had  a  talent  for  something. 

"  What  are  you  working  on  at  present  ?  " 

His  eyes  twinkled.  "  A  combination  of  both,"  he 
replied. 

She  was  thoroughly  interested  and  was  about  to 
ask  more  concerning  his  work,  when  the  Count  joined 
them. 

"  Have  you  shown  the  Marquis  the  orchids?"  he 
asked,  turning  to  Agatha. 

"  Not  yet ;  but  we  might  go  and  see  them  now  if 
the  Marquis  wishes." 

Loreno  declared  that  he  should  be  delighted  ;  and 
they  all  went  to  the  conservatory,  where  the  Count 
had  many  specimens  of  this  weird  flower. 

"  After  all,"  said  Agatha  when  they  had  looked 
through  the  collection,  "  while  I  admire  orchids,  I 
have  n't  the  peculiar  sympathy  with  them  that  I 
have  with  other  flowers." 

"I  feel  the  same,"  said  Loreno.  "An  orchid  seems 
to  me  more  like  an  animal  than  a  plant." 

The  General  nodded  his  head.  "  That 's  just  it," 
he  said;  "their  splendid  colors  and  their  seeming 
wilfulness  have  a  great  fascination  for  me."  He 
chuckled  quietly  and  then  added,  "  They  remind  me 
a  little  of  my  daughter." 

Agatha  was  delighted  to  hear  him  mention  Mer- 
cede  so  familiarly,  and  turning  to  Loreno,  who  was 
searching  the  distant  horizon  as  though  a  thunderbolt 
had  fallen,  she  said,  — 

5 


66  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  The  next  time  you  call,  my  cousin,  Signora 
Finelli,  will  be  here." 

"  There  has  evidently  been  a  reconciliation," 
thought  Loreno  with  a  tinge  of  regret;  for  he  did  not 
consider  a  woman  under  a  cloud  a  fit  companion  for 
the  young  girl  into  whose  clear  eyes  he  was  looking. 

"  Indeed !  "  he  said  aloud. 

"  Yes ;  she  has  been  away  a  long  time,"  said  the 
Count,  "  and  at  last  she 's  coming  home  again." 
Then  he  added  in  a  lower  tone  as  though  to  himself, 
"  It  will  be  very  pleasant  to  have  her  here  in  the 
old  way, —  very." 

"  When  do  you  expect  your  daughter  ?  "  Filippo 
inquired,  conscious  that  he  had  not  said  enough. 

"  We  don't  know  definitely,  but  I  almost  hope  for 
her  to-morrow  ;  still,  something  may  keep  her  a  day 
or  two  longer  in  Rome." 

"I  shall  be  curious  to  see  how  closely  she  resembles 
the  orchid  ;  but,"  he  continued,  deliberately  leading 
the  subject  to  less  perplexing  ground,  "  do  you  really 
find  that  the  colors  of  the  orchid  are  more  admirable 
than  those  of  the  usual  garden  flowers?  " 

Then  they  debated  again  this  much  debated  ques- 
tion, Loreno  finding  a  secret  pleasure  in  joining  forces 
with  Agatha.  He  watched  her  closely,  and  began  to 
think  that  he  had  never  seen  a  face  combining  so 
many  of  the  qualities  which  he  admired  in  a  woman. 
Then,  too,  while  holding  to  her  point  firmly,  she  ar- 
gued with  so  much  modesty  and  such  becoming  defer- 
ence to  her  uncle's  opinions,  that  Filippo,  in  thinking 
over  the  conversation  on  his  homeward  ride,  pro- 
nounced her  conduct  to  have  been  perfect,  indifferent 


MIGNONETTE  AND   ORCHIDS.  67 

to  the  fact  that  ninety-nine  young  women  in  a  hun- 
dred would  have  acquitted  themselves  quite  as  cred- 
itably. But  Filippo  was  developing  a  tendency  to 
idealize  everything  that  Agatha  did  or  said,  throwing 
over  her  all  the  charm  of  his  glowing  imagination 
and  intemperate  nature. 

The  next  day,  although  Agatha  was  up  very  early, 
she  found  that  the  Count  was  before  her.  He  was 
walking  in  the  garden  picking  flowers,  —  a  most  un- 
usual thing  for  him,  —  and  as  Agatha  drew  near  she 
heard  him  humming  an  old  song  of  Mercede's.  When 
he  caught  the  sound  of  her  footstep  he  looked  up 
brightly. 

"So  here  you  are!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  began  to 
fear  I  was  doomed  to  solitude  this  glorious  morning. 
Come,  a  fresh  rose  for  a  kiss  ! " 

Agatha  went  to  him  and  kissed  him  affectionately. 
"You  deserve  two,"  she  said,  "for  the  improvement 
in  your  hours." 

"To-morrow,  perhaps  I  shall  reqeive  two,"  he  re- 
plied. "  But  we  must  not  be  too  sure,  for  it 's  not 
so  easy  for  a  woman  to  run  off  to  the  country  at  a 
day's  notice,  especially  a  woman  with  a  child ;  and, 
by  the  bye,  Agatha,  that 's  a  fine  little  boy  of  hers, 
—  a  very  pretty  child  indeed." 

"  I  have  his  photograph ;  did  he  not  remind  you 
of  dear  Aunt  Teresa?  " 

"  Very  much.  Is  the  photograph  here,  or  in 
Rome?" 

"  I  brought  it  with  me  ;  let  me  get  it." 

"  Never  mind  now,  dear,"  he  said.     "  I  'm  going 


68  AGATHA   PAGE. 

to  Erba  for  the  morning  mail,  and  we  ought  to  have 
our  coffee  immediately ;  won't  you  hurry  it,  and 
bring  the  picture  to  the  table?" 

She  went  to  the  house,  and  a  few  minutes  later 
the  Count  followed.  As  Agatha  busied  herself  with 
the  'coffee,  her  companion  bent  affectionately  over  the 
face  of  his  grandson. 

"  I  suppose  that  Francesco  will  sit  here  besida 
ine  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Yes,  and  I  '11  sit  opposite,  in  my  old  place." 

*'  No,  you  must  stay  where  you  are." 

"  I  don't  wish  to,"  she  said.  "  I  shall  feel  it  much 
more  of  an  honor  to  be  near  you." 

He  laughed  nervously.  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  arrange 
it  all  as  you  think  best ; "  and  after  a  pause  he  added 
fervently,  "it  will  be  even  pleasanter  than  it  used 
to  be,  for  now  we  shall  have  the  child." 

After  breakfast  Agatha  watched  him  drive  away, 
and  then  went  to  Mercede's  rooms  to  see  that 
they  were  in  order.  Upon  the  sitting-room  table 
were  the  flowers,  which  the  Count  had  so  carefully 
selected. 

"  Dear  uncle ! "  she  said  half  aloud  ;  "  I  hope  he 
won't  have  to  wait  another  day." 

She  went  down  to  the  lawn  where  she  could  watch 
for  his  return,  but  as  soon  as  she  saw  him  knew  that 
he  had  been  disappointed. 

"  No  letter  from  Rome,"  he  said  as  bravely  as  he 
could.  "  I  suppose  it  was  unreasonable  to  expect 
her  so  soon,  but  I  hoped  that  at  least  she  would  send 
a  line." 

In  spite  of  her  own  disappointment  Agatha  tried 


MIGNONETTE  AND  ORCHIDS.  69 

to  comfort  him.  Putting  her  arm  through  his  she 
said,  — 

u  She  probably  missed  the  post.  I  'm  sure  you  will 
hear  from  her  this  afternoon." 

"  But  if  she  had  written  immediately  we  should 
have  received  the  letter  last  night." 

"  Yes,  but  she  probably  waited  to  decide  when  she 
could  come." 

He  seemed  to  be  considering  this  explanation. 

"That's  true,"  he  said  presently;  "I  think  you 
are  right.  I  hope  we  shall  know  to-night." 

But  neither  that  day  nor  the  next  brought  any 
news  from  Mercede,  and  the  Count's  growing  disap- 
pointment was  sad  to  see.  Agatha  was  at  a  loss  to 
understand  her  cousin's  silence,  and  determined,  if 
no  letter  should  come  the  following  day,  that  she 
would  telegraph  to  her. 

When  she  met  the  Count  the  next  morning,  he 
Was  pale  and  haggard,  and  it  was  evident  that  he  had 
not  slept.  His  nerves  were  at  a  high  tension,  and 
she  dreaded  the  effect  of  another  disappointment. 
After  watching  him  furtively  for  a  few  moments 
she  made  up  her  mind  that  he  ought  not  to  go  to 
the  post-office  alone,  for  he  could  scarcely  guide  the 
cup  to  his  lips,  because  of  the  trembling  of  his 
hand. 

"  Would  you  mind  taking  me  with  you  this  morn- 
ing, Uncle  ?  "  she  asked.  "  It 's  very  hard  to  bear  the 
suspense  here  all  alone." 

The  reason  appealed  to  him,  but  at  the  same  time 
he  was  conscious  of  less  power  to  bear  stoically  an- 
other fruitless  errand. 


70  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  In  case  we  don't  hear  anything  this  morning,  I 
might  telegraph,"  she  suggested  desperately,  seeing 
his  indecision. 

This  seemed  to  impress  him  favorably. 

"  Yes,  —  it  might  be  well,"  he  replied. 

"Then  I  may  go?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,  —  perhaps." 

She  chose  to  accept  this  as  final,  and  when  the  car- 
riage was  announced,  sent  for  her  hat. 

They  arrived  at  the  post-office  before  the  post- 
master, and  waited  for  him  half  an  hour.  There 
were  a  dozen  or  fifteen  contadini  present  in  the  dingy 
little  room  ;  the  men  smoking  and  speaking  occasion- 
ally in  guttural  tones,  while  they  stared  with  curi- 
osity at  the  Count  and  Agatha,  whose  faces  they 
knew  well.  The  Count  talked  rapidly  and  inces- 
santly during  the  sorting  of  the  letters,  and  as  his 
excitement  continued  to  increase,  Agatha  grew  more 
and  more  anxious. 

As  the  window  was  swung  open,  she  saw  her  uncle 
turn  pale.  He  suddenly  stopped  talking,  but  stood 
stolidly,  with  his  back  toward  the  letters. 

The  contadini  waited  for  him  to  advance. 

"  Buon  giorno  Eccelenza,"  called  the  official,  "  only 
two  papers  for  you  this  morning  —  and  a  letter." 

The  pount  turned  quickly  and  his  face  flushed. 

"  Let  me  get  them,"  pleaded  Agatha,  laying  her 
hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  I  will  get  them,"  he  replied  firmly,  as  he  moved 
forward. 

Taking  the  letter  with  eager  eyes  and  compressed 
lips,  he  scanned  it,  and  with  an  exclamation  of  delight 


MIGNONETTE  AND  ORCHIDS.  71 

handed  it  to  Agatha,  to  whom  it  was  addressed  in 
Mercede's  handwriting. 

She  tore  open  the  envelope,  and  standing  close  to- 
gether, each  read  as  follows :  — 

MY  DEAR  A'GATHA,  — Thank  in}'  father  for  his  eleventh- 
hour  consideration.  Were  I  not  his  daughter  it  would  be 
ungracious  to  decline  his  invitation ;  but  with  his  blood 
in  my  veins  and  his  pride  in  rny  heart,  I  should  disgrace 
him  did  I  so  humble  myself. 

My  father  turned  his  back  upon  me  for  years  ;  then  he 
recognized  his  obligation  merely  to  save  his  own  honor. 
It  would  be  undutiful  to  continue  to  offend  that  sensitive 
honor  with  the  presence  of  the  offender  and  her  child  born 
out  of  wedlock,  and  I  propose  to  bury  the  past  with  more 
certainty  than  through  death,  —  to  disappear  without  need 
of  a  gravestone.  In  fact,  Agatha,  at  the  moment  you 
read  this  I  shall  have  begun  a  new  life,  with  a  new  name ; 
I  here  and  now  renounce  the  old,  absolutely. 

If  at  some  future  day  I  should  return  under  new  con- 
ditions and  in)'  father  and  3'ou,  like  the  rest  of  the  world, 
will  receive  me  for  my  new  self  alone,  I  shall  then  be  truly 
grateful  and  happy. 

With  abiding  honor  for  my  father  and  love  for  you, 

MERCEDE. 

The  old  Count  staggered  and  uttered  a  cry  of  pain, 
then  with  a  ghastly  struggle  he  conjured  up  a  smile. 
"  Come,  Agatha,"  he  said,  offering  her  his  arm  gal- 
lantly, "  come,  my  dear.  We  should  be  going  ;  my 
early  rising  betrayed  me  into  a  yawn." 

And  as  the  villagers  raised  their  hats  to  him,  he 
courteously  returned  the  salute,  and  passing  through 
them  went  out  into  the  air. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

AT    THE  IKON   GATE. 

IT  was  about  eleven  o'clock  when  Agatha,  hearing 
from  her  uncle's  valet  that  the  Count  was  sleeping 
quietly,  put  on  her  hat  and  started  out  to  find  Padre 
Sacconi. 

The  sun  shone  as  brightly  as  yesterday,  yet  some- 
how it  seemed  less  joyous.  The  quiet  about  her, 
usually  so  welcome,  oppressed  her  now.  The  memory 
of  a  distant  day  came  back  to  her ;  on  that  day  also 
everything  and  every  one  seemed  horribly  quiet,  and 
her  heart,  as  to-day,  seemed  numb.  At  that  time 
her  uncle  had  drawn  her  to  him  tenderly  and  tried 
to  comfort  her ;  now  their  positions  were  reversed, 
and  to-day,  when  at  last  they  had  reached  the  house, 
and  the  Count's  nerve  gave  way,  she  had  been  the 
comforter,  stroking  his  hair  and  suggesting  such 
hopeful  thoughts  as  she  could. 

Yet  this  day  was  sadder  than  the  other.  The  con- 
solation of  a  tender  parting  had  been  hers,  while  the 
desolate  old  man  yonder  had  no  look  of  love  to  re- 
call, no  message  to  treasure.  His  cup  was  as  full  as 
hers,  but  filled  with  gall.  In  his  surging  grief  he 
had  moaned  out  each  heartless  phrase  penned  by 
Mercede,  until  with  a  shudder  he  cried,  "  They  are 


AT  THE  IRON  GATE.  73 

cold  as  steel,  Agatha ;  they  pierce  like  the  stiletto." 
And  now,  as  the  young  girl  recalled  them,  her  in- 
dignation grew  hotter,  until  she  exclaimed  bitterly* 
"  Shame  upon  you,  Mercede,  shame  !  " 

Reaching  the  iron  gate  through  which  Filippo  had 
first  seen  her,  she  flung  it  open  vigorously,  then 
started  back  in  surprise.  She  was  confronted  by  the 
easel  of  the  young  Marquis,  and  she  saw  its  owner 
stretched  on  the  grass  a  few  yards  away,  playing  with 
the  Duke  Faviola's  dogs. 

Her  righteous  indignation  had  given  her  unusual 
color,  and  he  thought  she  was  annoyed  at  finding  him 
there.  Rising  hastily  he  turned  his  sketch,  and  then 
held  out  his  hand  to  her. 

"  Good-morning,"  he  said. 

She  felt  that  her  cheeks  were  hot,  and  her  embar- 
rassment was  increased  by  his  searching  gaze. 

"  We  seem  fated  to  meet  here,"  she  said,  seizing 
upon  the  first  words  that  entered  her  mind. 

"  This  time  I  feel  less  guilty,"  he  answered,  "  foi 
you  must  acknowledge  that  it 's  a  pretty  spot  for  a 
sketch." 

u  It  is  very  pretty,  certainly,"  and  her  tone  was  as 
gay  as  she  could  make  it,  "  very  pretty  indeed." 

"  Have  you  started  for  a  stroll,  or  are  you  going 
somewhere  — I  mean,  where  I  may  not  go  with 
you?" 

"  I  am  going  to  Padre  Sacconi's,  and  think  I  had 
better  go  alone,  for  I  have  something  about  which 
to  consult  him  ;  besides,  I  see  that  you  are  painting, 
and  I  '11  come  back  the  other  way  to  avoid  disturbing 
you." 


74  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  Then  I  '11  not  stay  a  moment  longer,"  he  said  de- 
cisively. "  I  won't  consent  to  drive  you  to  the  sunny 
high-road." 

"  If  you  really  don't  mind  being  disturbed,  I  '11 
come  back  this  way ;  and  now  I  must  be  going." 

He  watched  her  with  surprise,  for  her  manner  was 
unnaturally  gay. 

"  You  are  evidently  in  great  spirits  this  morning," 
he  said  with  a  smile. 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  she  answered ;  but  in  spite  of 
herself  she  could  not  control  the  quick  tears  that 
sprang  to  her  eyes,  nor  a  premonitory  little  twitch  at 
the  corners  of  her  mouth. 

He  was  at  her  side  in  an  instant,  while  something 
in  his  eyes  and  voice  made  her  hold  her  breath. 

"  I  wish  I  might  know,"  he  said,  "  that  you  hold 
me  in  enough  esteem  to  call  upon  me  if  I  can  help 
you ;  for  something  has  surely  gone  wrong,  and  very 
wrong." 

Her  nerves  had  been  greatly  strained  by  the  events 
of  the  day,  and  she  could  scarcely  choke  back  the 
tears.  "  I  don't  think  you  can  help  me,"  she  replied 
in  a  low  voice.  "  I  fear  no  one  can." 

He  looked  at  her  earnestly.  "  Answer  me  but  one 
question  —  may  I  ask  it  ?  Are  you  perfectly  happy 
in  your  present  home  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  cried  quickly,  "  perfectly  !  I  could  n't 
be  happier." 

He  continued  to  look  at  her  while  he  reflected. 

"  I  don't  wish  to  pry  into  your  affairs,"  he  said 
presently  ;  "  but  because  I  don't  press  the  subject  I 
hope  you  won't  think  me  indifferent." 


AT   THE  IRON  GATE.  75 

She  did  not  reply,  for  she  was  absorbed  in  thought. 
Intuitively  she  trusted  this  man,  she  was  surprised  to 
find  how  much.  He  seemed  to  her  the  most  manly 
man  she  had  ever  met ;  as  Padre  Sacconi  was  the 
most  saintly,  and  her  uncle  the  kindest  of  men. 

As  she  raised  her  glance  to  his  earnest  face  and 
read  the  honesty  and  sympathy  beaming  in  his 
eyes,  how  could  she  doubt  him  ?  She  needed  the 
advice  of  some  one  in  this  crisis,  if  only  for  the  sake 
of  her  uncle,  whose  heart  seemed  broken  and  whose 
purpose  seemed  dead.  Had  it  been  a  personal  mat- 
ter only,  she  might  have  remained  silent ;  but  she 
felt  that  she  must  share  with  some  one  her  present 
responsibility.  She  did  not  believe  that  Mercede, 
could  she  but  be  found,  would  be  inflexible  ;  but 
where  and  how  should  they  seek  her  ?  Padre  Sac- 
coni was  the  only  person  whom  she  had  thought  of 
consulting  ;  but  now  Loreno's  unexpected  offer 
tempted  her  greatly.  He  was  a  man  of  the  world, 
and  his  opinion  upon  such  a  subject  would  be  worth 
more  than  that  of  the  priest. 

';  Do  you  remember,"  she  said  at  last,  "  that  I  told 
you  my  cousin  was  coming  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  ;  has  she  arrived  ?  " 

"  No  ;  and  that  is  what  troubles  me." 

"  I  'm  very  sorry  ;  has  n't  she  written  ?" 

"  Yes,  a  terrible  letter."  She  paused,  and  he 
watched  her  silently  as  her  eyes  filled  with  despair. 
"  I  don't  know  that  any  one  can  help  me,  and  yet  I 
can't  be  sure." 

"  Two  heads  are  sometimes  better  than  one.  As  I 
have  said,  I  am  entirely  at  your  service." 


70  AGATHA   PACE. 

"  You  are  very  kind.  I  was  on  my  way  to  ask 
Padre  Sacconi's  opinion,  but  I  am  tempted  to  ask 
yours  also.  You  have  been  more  in  the  world,  and 
might  have  better  judgment  about  an  affair  of  this 
sort."  She  looked  into  his  attentive  face.  "Are  you 
sincere  ?  Do  you  really  wish  to  help  me,  or  are  you 
merely  courteous  ?  Don't  let  me  make  a  mistake  !  " 

He  stepped  forward  impulsively  and  looked  straight 
into  her  eyes. 

"  Signorina,"  he  said,  "  test  my  sincerity.  I  long 
to  help  you,  and  I  promise  to  do  everything  in  my 
power  to  justify  —  " 

"  Wait  —  "  and  she  held  up  her  hand ;  "  first  hear 
what  it  is." 

"  I  don't  care  what  it  is,"  he  replied,  impelled  not 
alone  by  his  interest  in  Agatha,  but  by  the  natural 
impulse  of  manhood  to  aid  a  woman  in  trouble.  "  I 
invite  your  confidence,  not  to  comfort  you,  but  be- 
cause I  hope  to  serve  you." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it,"  she  said  firmly  ;  "  but  I  really 
have  no  right  to  draw  you  into  my  trouble." 

He  was  silent  a  moment.  "  Can  I  say  more  than  I 
have  ?  Is  it  necessary  to  repeat  what  I  have  said  al- 
ready ?  Don't  stand  upon  ceremony.  Perhaps  I  can 
help  you  ;  I  have  said  that  I  am  more  than  anxious 
to  do  so;  then  why  go  backward?  Why  not  take 
me  at  my  word,  and  state  frankly  what  your  trouble 
is  ?  "  He  paused,  but  she  remained  silent,  and  he 
added,  "Indeed,  I  have  already  guessed  it,  —  you 
fear  your  cousin  has  run  away." 

"  We  know  that  she  has." 

"  With  any  one  ?  " 


AT  THE  IRON    GATE.  77 

"  With  her  child." 

"  Simply  run  away  from  her  husband,  then?  " 

"  They  were  not  living  together,  and  she  was  in 
Rome ;  as  you  know,  we  expected  her  here,  but  to- 
day a  letter  came  from  her  saying  she  has  run  away. 
My  uncle  is  heart-broken,  and  I  must  find  her  and 
induce  her  to  come  back." 

She  felt  in  her  pocket  and  drew  out  Mercede's 
letter. 

"  Do  you  think  any  circumstances  would  justify 
my  showing  her  letter  to  you?  " 

"Yes,  but  I  can't  judge  whether  the  present  cir- 
cumstances would  ;  you  must  decide." 

"  I  must  find  her,  and  I  have  n't  the  faintest  idea 
how  to  go  about  it.  I  feel  utterly  helpless,  and  don't 
dare  to  speak  her  name  to  my  uncle.  I  wish  I  knew 
what  to  do  !  " 

Without  further  hesitation  he  began  to  question 
her,  thus,  to  her  great  relief,  drawing  the  main  facts 
from  her ;  and  the  ice  once  broken,  she  readily 
handed  him  the  letter  and  without  reservation  told 
him  whatever  she  thought  would  throw  light  upon 
the  affair. 

He  was  indeed  puzzled.  What  could  have  induced 
this  flight?  Mercede,  as  he  learned,  had  no  need 
to  work,  and  dishonor  was  unlikely,  since  her  let- 
ter spoke  of  a  new  life  from  which  she  might  some 
day  emerge  with  the  respect  of  the  world.  Could 
she  then  have  run  away  only  to  escape  humilia- 
tion ?  Perhaps ;  but  mere  absence  would  not  win 
respect:  there  must  be  something  more  active  in 
her  intention. 


78  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  You  say  she  is  beautiful  and  romantic,"  he  said, 
after  further  reflection ;  "  she  may  intend  to  go  upon 
the  stage." 

Agatha  shook  her  head.  "  Possibly,  but  I  doubt 
it ;  my  cousin  never  would  consent  to  play  a  minor 
part." 

"  Would  she,  perhaps,  try  to  do  something  with 
her  taste  for  sculpture  ?  " 

Agatha  considered  well  before  replying.  "  Possi- 
bly, but  I  doubt  it.  She  had  done  so  little  at  it." 

They  both  remained  silent,  conning  the  main  facts. 

"I  think  I  would  simply  be  patient,"  Loreno  said 
presently,  "  for  you  don't  wish  to  make  the  matter 
public,  and  to  search  for  her  without  attracting  at- 
tention is  impossible.  Her  experience  in  facing  the 
world  alone,  may  force  her  back  to  you ;  but  you 
can't  touch  her  feelings  even  if  you  find  her,  —  her 
letter  convinces  me  of  that.  Her  head  is  full  of  a 
new  idea,  besides  which,  she  thinks  she  has  a  griev- 
ance. She  will  not  come  back  until  she  has  tested 
her  experiment  and  is  ready  to  bury  her  grievance. 
Leave  her  alone  for  the  present ;  but  should  further 
reflection  suggest  anything  to  be  done,  I  shall  be 
ready  to  do  it." 

"  In  the  mean  time,"  said  Agatha,  "  what  about 
her  father?  He  's  terribly  broken  down." 

**  He  will  pull  up  again  ;  although,  of  course,  such  a 
wound  must  leave  its  mark.  His  breaking  down  was 
the  best  thing  in  the  world  for  him  ;  it  relieved  the 
tension,  and  now  his  old  pride  will  come  to  his  aid." 

"  I  fear  that  he  will  never  be  the  same  man  after 
such  a  blow." 


AT  THE  IRON   GATE,  79 

"  How  does  my  opinion  about  your  cousin  strike 
you  ?  "  he  inquired. 

Agatha  silently  reviewed  what  he  had  said  ;  then 
with  a  deep  sigh  that  went  to  her  companion's  heart 
she  replied,  "  I  'm  afraid  you  are  right." 

'•  You  don't  know  how  it  cuts  me,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  to  feel  that  anything  I  have  said  should  make  you 
sigh  like  that ;  I  would  ask  no  happier  life  than 
to  — "  the  sudden  fright  that  came  into  her  eyes 
checked  him,  and  he  stammered  in  a  changed  voice, 
—  "to  always  say  pleasant  things  to  people." 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  of  it,"  she  found  voice  to  repty, 
and  then  moving  quickly  to  the  gate  seemed  about 
to  dart  within  its  friendly  protection,  but  on  second 
thought  came  forward  and  gave  him  her  hand 
frankly. 

"  Good-by,"  she  said.  "  I  feel  scarcely  at  liberty 
to  invite  you  to  the  house  to-day,  but  I  hope  we  shall 
see  you  soon,  and  I  thank  you  again  and  again  for 
your  kindness." 

He  clasped  her  hand  in  both  of  his  and  she  let  it 
lie  passively  for  a  moment.  Then  she  withdrew  it 
slowly. 

He  went  back  to  his  canvas,  and  turning  it  sat 
with  fixed  gaze  regarding  the  figure  of  a  young  girl 
playing  upon  a  violin. 

Not  far  away  Agatha  paused,  and  opening  a  locket 
which  hung  from  her  watch-chain  looked  upon  a 
spray  of  mignonette  that  lay  within. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

UNDERTONES. 

THE  growth  of  love  is  inexplicable.  We  may 
recognize  certain  conditions  which  favor  it,  but  who 
can  tell  how  its  complex  tissues  are  spun  ?  The  love 
which  sprang  up  and  blossomed  in  Agatha's  pure 
heart  became  a  blessed  fact  which  she  accepted  not 
without  emotion  intense  and  absorbing,  but  without 
marvelling.  The  growth  of  a  flower  or  a  tree  "  in 
the  teeth  of  gravity  "  had  often  filled  her  mind  with 
wonder;  but  this  new  growth  in  her  very  soul  seemed 
not  only  natural  but  inevitable.  It  did  not  occur  to 
her  to  analyze  either  the  reason  or  the  method.  She 
simply  accepted  her  joy  as  a  nun  accepts  the  "  peace 
of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding."  It  was 
the  result  of  a  condition  for  which  she  should  be, 
and  was,  devoutly  grateful. 

Loreno  was  sensible  of  her  charm,  even  conscious 
that  she  had  awakened  in  him  a  deep  regard.  While 
he  had  never  been  truly  in  love,  he  had  several  times 
before  been  strongly  attracted  toward  some  young 
girl,  until  a  trivial  offence  to  his  fastidiousness,  or  a 
premature  token  of  conquest,  had  chilled  his  interest. 

At  the  time  his  sister  had  spoken,  half  in  sport, 
regarding  his  treatment  of  young  women,  he  was 


UNDERTONES.  81 

conscious  of  the  general  truth  of  her  words,  and  now 
he  wished  and  intended  to  profit  by  them.  He  re» 
spected  Agatha  to  the  depth  of  his  nature,  and  would 
on  no  account  compromise  her  by  aimless  attention  ; 
nor  would  he  even  approach  nearer  and  run  any  pos- 
sible risk  of  awakening  her  interest,  unless  prepared 
to  offer  her  everything.  Therefore  he  decided  that 
he  ought  to  go  away  without  delay  and  test  the 
strength  of  his  feeling. 

"  There  is  no  telling  what  I  might  have  said  had 
her  frightened  face  not  stopped  me,"  he  murmured, 
as  he  sat  at  his  window  the  night  after  Agatha's 
confidence,  pondering  until  the  stars  grew  dim,  and 
the  rattle  of  market-wagons  blending  with  the  sharp 
crack  of  whips,  floated  up  from  the  pallid  plain. 

Where  he  should  go  was  now  to  be  determined. 
The  first  place  he  thought  of  was  his  own  villa  near 
Varese ;  but  this  did  not  meet  with  unqualified  ap- 
proval, for  he  feared  the  quiet  of  the  place  would  not 
favor  his  experiment.  One  plan  after  another  was 
canvassed,  but  he  arrived  at  no  decision.  The 
reason  for  this  was  clear, — he  was  working  from  the 
wrong  end ;  but  as  soon  as  he  permitted  his  mind 
to  consider  freely  his  yearning  to  aid  Agatha,  he 
began  to  draw  nearer  a  conclusion.  He  had  prom- 
ised to  help  her,  and  was  in  honor  bound  to  make 
his  promise  good.  The  first  thing  to  do  was  to  go 
to  Rome  and  search  for  a  clew  to  the  refugee's 
movements.  Thus  he  would  redeem  his  promise 
and  yet  be  away  from  Agatha's  spell. 

Hollow  as  was  this  self-deception,  it  seemed  to 
satisfy  him,  and  he  blithety  dismissed  his  perplexity. 

6 


82  AGATHA   PAGE. 

It  is  difficult  for  certain  practical  minds,  with  an  habit- 
ual and  almost  puritanical  sincerity  of  self-examina- 
tion, to  realize  the  power  of  optimism,  both  material 
and  moral,  which  a  certain  type  of  mind  possesses. 
It  exists,  nevertheless,  even  under  the  shadow  of 
many  a  New  England  church-steeple,  and  thrives 
luxuriantly  in  the  sunny  atmosphere  of  contentment- 
loving  Italy.  Loreno  was  sincere,  and  opening  a 
door  to  a  balcony  went  out  to  see  the  first  shafts  of 
the  rising  sun  touch  the  distant  Alps,  and  after  enjoy- 
ing the  pageant  threw  himself  upon  a  lounge  and 
slept  peacefully. 

The  Duchess  was  surprised  when  her  brother  an- 
nounced at  luncheon  his  intention  to  leave  for  Rome 
the  following  day,  and  she  protested,  as  did  the  Duke 
and  Gaeta. 

"  Have  you  finished  all  your  sketches  ? "  asked 
Gaeta,  innocently. 

"  Yes;  although  I've  some  last  touches  to  put  on 
one  of  them  after  luncheon." 

*'  Which  one  ?  The  head  of  that  peasant  woman 
at  Erba  ?  " 

"  No  ;  a  —  landscape  with  a  figure  in  it." 

"  And  a  gate,"  added  the  Duchess. 

"  I  have  n't  seen  that  one,"  said  the  child. 

"  No ;  the  gate  is  in  the  foreground,"  replied  her 
mother,  "  and  it 's  usually  closed." 

"What  does  mamma  mean?"  Gaeta  asked,  turning 
to  Loreno. 

"  Have  n't  you  heard,  little  girl,  of  certain  Bible 
truths  that  you  will  understand  better  when  you  are 
older?" 


UNDERTONES.  83 

"Yes;  but  what  of  that?" 

"  This  is  one  of  the  same  kind." 

The  Duke  smiled,  and  Gaeta  was  encouraged  to 
persist. 

"  Try  me,"  she  said  ;  "  I  think  I  'm  old  enough  to 
understand." 

"  Not  quite  yet,"  and  he  patted  her  dark  curls. 

"  But  mamma  was  talking  of  a  gate  in  a  pic- 
ture, and  about  it 's  being  closed ;  I  understood 
that." 

"  The  modus  operand!?  " 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  There,  I  said  you  would  n't  understand.'* 

The  crestfallen  child  remained  silent,  and  the  Duke 
remarked  upon  the  evidence  furnished  by  the  Paris 
Exposition,  of  the  wonderful  recuperative  power  pos- 
sessed by  the  Parisians,  considering  the  recent  date 
of  the  Franco-Prussian  War. 

Within  an  hour  Loreno  started  for  the  hills  toward 
the  Villa  Ricci,  with  his  faithful  companions,  the 
Duke's  four  dogs,  circling  about  him. 

As  he  approached  the  villa  he  saw  Agatha  and 
her  uncle  together  on  the  veranda  overlooking  the 
lawn.  The  Count  was  reclining  in  a  long  wicker  chair, 
while  Agatha  sat  at  his  side  reading  aloud.  As  she 
glanced  up  and  saw  the  visitor  she  spoke  to  her  uncle, 
who  turned  his  head  listlessly,  but  instantly  lowered 
the  foot-rest  and  pulled  himself  together.  Agatha 
arose,  and  walking  to  the  end  of  the  veranda  greeted 
Loreno  cordially  and  invited  him  to  join  her  uncle. 
The  old  man  was  upon  his  feet,  and  stood  erect,  wait- 
ing to  receive  his  guest. 


84  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  disturb  you,"  said  Loreno,  taking  the 
Count's  hand.  "  I  saw  your  niece  reading  to  you." 

"  Not  at  all,"  was  the  hearty  response.  "  Agatha 
occasionally  reads  aloud  after  luncheon  while  I  listen, 
and  sometimes,"  he  added  with  a  faint  smile,  "  I  fear 
I  sleep  a  little." 

"  You  don't  mind  my  bringing  the  dogs  up  here?  " 
Filippo  asked,  as  he  noticed  the  General's  eye  rest 
upon  the  big  brutes,  who  stood  wagging  their  tails  at 
Agatha's  flattery ;  for  she  was  upon  her  knees  patting 
each  head  in  turn  and  praising  all. 

"  Not  in  the  least;  and  what  fine  fellows  they  are!" 

"Are  they  not  splendid?  "  exclaimed  Agatha,  look- 
ing up  at  her  uncle.  "  What  good  faces  they  have!" 

"  So  they  have,"  he  replied.  "  One  may  do  worse 
than  love  a  faithful  dog." 

.  The  General  asked  Loreno  to  be  seated,  and  ig- 
noring the  easy  chair  offered  him,  chose  one  with  a 
straight  back.  Then  he  asked  after  the  Duke  Faviola 
and  his  family. 

"  Is  n't  Gaeta  a  charming  child  ?"  said  Agatha,  still 
caressing  the  dogs. 

"Charming,"  Filippo  replied;  "and  her  devotion 
to  her  father  is  touching." 

The  anxious  glance  which  Agatha  gave  her  uncle 
told  the  Marquis  how  careful  he  must  be. 

"  She  is  very  clever  also,"  added  Agatha  hastily, 
rising  and  standing  behind  the  Count  with  her  hand 
upon  his  shoulder.  "  I  think  her  musical  talent  is 
remarkable." 

"  She  tells  me  that  you  sometimes  play  duets  with 
her." 


UNDERTONES.  85 

"But  she  told  me  something  more  important," 
and  Agatha  looked  at  him  knowingly. 

"And  what,  pray  ?  " 

"  That  she  has  been  promised  a  new  piano  on  her 
next  birthday." 

He  laughed  deprecatingly :  "  I  'm  glad  she  is 
pleased;  but  you  also  know  the  condition  upon 
which  I  promised  it?" 

"  Yes ;  that  she  learns  the  piano  part  of  the  Chopin 
nocturne  in  D  flat,  arranged  for  piano  and  violin  ;  she 
came  to  ask  me  if  I  had  the  music,"  was  the  nai've 
response. 

"  Did  you  have  it  ?  "  asked  the  hypocrite,  soberly. 

"  Yes,  indeed ;  it 's  one  of  my  favorites.  Why,  I  be- 
lieve I  was  playing  it  that  day  when  — "  She  paused, 
and  then  seemed  to  forget  what  she  was  about  to 
say,  which  may  have  been  the  cause  of  her  sudden 
color. 

"So  you,  too,  are  fond  of  music?"  said  the  Count 
to  Loreno. 

"  Very  ;  although  I  don't  play  at  all." 

*'  But  you  sing  beautifully,"  said  Agatha ;  "  Gaeta 
told  me  so." 

"  That 's  in  return  for  the  piano." 

"Would  you  mind  singing  something  to  us?  "  she 
asked.  "  My  uncle  is  devoted  to  music,  and  I  have 
some  books  of  songs.  Do  you  sing  Schumann  ?  " 

"  Sometimes,  but  I  'd  rather  not  reveal  ray  Ger- 
man to  you ;  let  me  try  something  in  Italian." 

"  Something  of  Tosti's  or  Denza's  ?  " 

"  Have  you  Rotoli's  arrangement  of  Mendelssohn's 
*  Auf  Fliigeln  des  Gesanges '  ?  " 


86  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  No,  but  I  have  Mendelssohn's  songs,  so  per- 
haps we  can  manage  it.  Come,  let  us  try;"  and 
she  led  the  way  through  a  glass  door  into  the  music- 
room,  and  after  a  few  moments'  rehearsal  the  Count 
heard  Loreno's  rich  voice  singing  the  passionate 
strains. 

"How  lovely!"  he  heard  Agatha  exclaim  at  the 
close.  "  Strangely  enough,  I  never  heard  that  song 
before." 

"  It  would  sound  charming  on  the  violin,"  was  the 
answer. 

"  Would  it  be  troubling  you  too  much  to  write  the 
Italian  translation  ?  " 

"  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure  ;  and  I  '11  do  it  now,  for 
I  am  going  away  to-morrow." 

He  watched  her  closely,  hoping  to  detect  some  sign 
of  feeling  at  the  thought  of  parting. 

"  Are  you  ?  "  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 

He  must  have  been  blind ;  for  although  the  cheeks 
lost  color  and  the  sensitive  lips  parted  and  even  quiv- 
ered slightly,  he  saw  nothing.  Perhaps  he  expected 
that  she  would  start  involuntarily  and  murmur,  "  'Tis 
better  so,"  as  tears  streamed  from  her  eyes. 

Had  he  detected  her  feeling,  — such  is  the  nature 
of  some  men, — he  might  not  have  appreciated  so  easy 
a  conquest,  possibly  never  have  returned  to  her.  The 
feminine  instinct  of  coquetry  has  scarcely  been  given 
even  to  birds  without  reason. 

"  Yes,"  he  added ;  "  I  'm  going  to  Rome,  and  may 
then  run  on  to  the  Exposition." 

"  How  interesting !     I  envy  you." 

He  glanced  toward  the   open  door  and  dropped 


UNDERTONES.  8T 

his  voice :     "  But  I  shall  not  be  unmindful  of  your 
cousin." 

"  You  are  very  kind." 

*'  How  shall  I  communicate  with  you  if  I  find  trace 
of  her?" 

She  touched  the  piano  and  appeared  to  be  thinking. 

"  Send  word  to  Padre  Sacconi;  I  '11  prepare  him  for 
it,"  she  said  softly. 

"  Very  well."  Then  he  continued  in  his  usual 
tone,  "  Can  you  let  me  have  a  sheet  of  paper  ?  " 

"  Certainly ;  I  '11  get  it  from  the  library." 

The  Count  appeared  at  the  door.  "Sing  some- 
thing else,  won't  you?"  he  said.  "You  have  a  de- 
lightful voice." 

"With  pleasure,"  Loreno  replied.  "  Miss  Page  will 
perhaps  find  something  that  I  know,  while  I  copy  the 
words  I  've  just  sung." 

"  You  sing  Schubert's  songs  ?  "  asked  the  Count. 

"  Yes,  some  of  them." 

"  Then  sing  this  one  to  me  ; "  and  finding  the  book 
he  turned  its  leaves.  "  Do  you  know  it  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  Come,"  he  said  to  Agatha,  who  now  returned, 
carrying  a  portfolio;  "play  this  accompaniment  for 
the  Marquis." 

She  was  pleased  at  her  uncle's  interest,  but  as  she 
glanced  at  the  song  she  grew  grave. 

"  Oh,  not  that  one,"  she  said ;  "  choose  some 
other." 

"  But  I  wish  that  one,"  said  the  Count. 

"It's  so  morbid." 

"  Come,  begin !  "  he  said. 


88  AGATHA   PAGE. 

So  Loreno  sang :  — 

" '  The  storm  hath  rent  asunder 

The  sky's  thick  robe  of  gray  ; 
The  clouds  are  cleft  with  thunder, 
And  roll  in  strife  away. 

" '  And  blinding  fires  are  flaming 

The  dusky  clouds  behind  ; 
A  morn  like  this  resembleth 
Mine  own  bewildered  mind. 

" '  My  heart  sees  in  yon  heaven 
It 's  own  dark  image  there ; 
'Tis  naught  else  now  but  winter, — 
Wild  winter  cold  and  bare. ' " 

The  old  man  stood  near  the  singer  drinking  in  the 
wild  measures  with  sincere  delight. 

"  That 's  a  good  song,"  he  said  as  Agatha  closed  the 
book,  "  and  admirably  given." 

Then  he  went  out  again  upon  the  veranda. 

"  He  is  very  bitter,"  Loreno  said. 

*'  Very !  "  and  Agatha's  face  was  troubled. 

"Don't  be  down-hearted;  he's  not  half  as  bad  as 
I  expected  to  find  him.  Try  to  get  him  away  for  a 
few  weeks  ;  a  change  would  do  him  a  world  of  good." 

"  Yes,  it  might ;  I  '11  think  it  over.  Shall  we  go 
outside  ?  " 

«'  Won't  you  play  something  first  ?  " 

She  hesitated.  "  Willingly,  if  you  wish  it ;  but  be- 
fore I  begin  I  '11  go  and  see  if  my  uncle  needs  any- 
thing." 

He  watched  the  graceful  outline  of  her  figure  as 
she  walked  toward  the  light,  and  felt  a  sense  of  pleas- 
ure at  the  thought  that  presently  she  would  be  com- 


UNDERTONES.  89 

ing  back  to  him.  He  stood  by  the  piano  turning 
over  some  music  mechanically,  his  thoughts  upon 
the  new  interest  that  had  come  into  his  life. 

"  What  a  restful  personality  she  has,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "and  how  gently  and  naturally  she  does 
everything !  "  Then  he  wondered  how  it  would  seem 
to  have  her  always  about  him  as  the  Count  had. 
"  Probably  I  should  get  used  to  it  and  cease  to  ap- 
preciate it,  —  that 's  the  way  of  the  world  ;  "  and  he 
smiled  at  his  wisdom.  "  And  then?  "  His  face  grad- 
ually grew  serious  as  he  thought  rapidly  and  earn- 
estly. The  rustle  of  Agatha's  dress  at  the  door 
aroused  him.  "  Yes,  much  better  go  away,"  was  his 
mental  conclusion. 

"  I  'm  sorry  to  have  kept  you  waiting,"  she 
said,  going  to  her  violin-case  and  taking  out  the 
instrument. 

"  Don't  mention  it :  how  are  the  dogs  behaving 
themselves?  " 

"  They  are  all  lying  about  my  uncle's  chair,  trying 
their  best  to  keep  awake.  What  shall  I  play  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Almost  anything,"  he  said  indifferently. 

A  shade  of  disappointment  touched  her  face. 

"  Then  I  '11  play  a  little  thing  of  Wieniawski's," 
and  instantly  her  bow  struck  the  strings  and  she 
dashed  into  a  brilliant  waltz  full  of  technical  sur- 
prises, but  without  a  pretence  of  sentiment. 

"  What  fire  you  have  !  "  he  exclaimed  as  she  laid 
the  violin  away. 

"  But  surely  you  prefer  another  kind  of  music  ?  " 
and  her  voice  was  almost  pleading. 


90  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  Certainly  I  do ;  but  I  am  glad  to  have  heard  you 
iu  that  kind." 

She  was  penitent  for  having  misjudged  him  even 
for  a  moment,  and  turning  took  up  her  bow  again. 
Poising  it  for  an  instant  she  began  the  nocturne  he 
had  before  heard  her  play. 

Thrilled  by  the  force  of  its  new  associations,  she 
gave  to  it  a  depth  of  pure  sentiment  that  finds  a 
fitting  means  of  expression  in  the  music  of  Chopin. 
He  was  too  musical  to  be  insensible  to  such  a  ren- 
dering, and  with  eyes  riveted  upon  the  player,  sat 
motionless,  oblivious  to  all  save  the  swelling  notes 
that  flowed  from  a  full  heart. 

Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  a  phrase,  the  music 
ceased.  The  spell  was  broken,  and  he  searched  the 
face  of  the  musician  eagerl}'. 

She  stood  with  her  head  bent  low,  her  bow  at  her 
side  ;  her  breathing  was  distinct  and  tremulous ;  she 
struggled  bravely  for  a  moment,  then  raising  her  eyes 
to  his,  smiled  deprecatingly,  and  turning  laid  away 
her  violin. 

Neither  spoke  while  she  busied  herself  over  the 
case,  but  when  she  turned  her  face  Loreno  rose  im- 
pulsively and  went  toward  her. 

"  Why  did  you  stop,  Agatha  dear?"  called  out  the 
Count,  who  appeared  at  the  window. 

"  I  couldn't  go  on,"  she  answered. 

He  came  forward  solicitously. 

"  You  're  tired  out,  my  child,"  he  said,  "  and  need 
rest.  Come  out  into  the  air  and  let  me  show  you 
how  to  be  comfortable." 

"  I  feel  very  well,  thank  you,"  and  she  took  his 


UNDERTONES.  91 

arm  ;  "  but  the  Marquis,  I  am  sure,  will  enjoy  a  ciga- 
rette with  you.  I  '11  get  the  tobacco  ;  "  and  disen- 
gaging her  arm  she  hurried  into  the  corridor. 

44  The  fact  is,"  the  Count  explained,  "  my  niece  is 
in  need  of  rest ;  she  has  had  some  affairs  to  worry 
her  of  late,  and  such  a  nature  as  hers  can't  stand 
much  wear  and  tear." 

44  Why  don't  you  take  her  away  for  a  little 
change  ?  "  suggested  the  other. 

44  Not  a  bad  idea,"  was  the  answer.  44 1  '11  consider 
it ;  but  Agatha  does  n't  often  care  to  run  away  from 
Erba." 

44  But  if  she  needs  change  of  air,  and  you  urge 
it,  she  will  probably  yield." 

44  No  doubt.     I  '11  think  about  it." 

Agatha  soon  rejoined  them,  bearing  the  tobacco 
and  paper,  and  having  deftly  rolled  two  cigarettes, 
handed  one  to  each  gentleman. 

A  little  later  Loreno  rose  and  offered  his  hand  to 
the  Count. 

44 1  must  bid  you  good-by,"  he  said;  44 1  leave  to- 
morrow." 

The  Count  glanced  quickty  at  Agatha  and  was 
glad  to  see  that  she  showed  no  feeling,  for  he  dreaded 
the  thought  of  losing  her,  now  that  Mercede  was 
irreclaimably  gone  from  him. 

44 1  hope  we  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  welcoming 
you  again,"  were  his  words ;  for  he  liked  Loreno. 

The  Marquis  thanked  him  and  turned  to  Agatha. 

"  Good-by,"  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand. 

4'  Good-by,"  and  she  looked  him  bravely  in  the 
eye. 


92  AGATHA  PAGE. 

He  strode  homeward  with  his  brow  contracted,  his 
eyes  upon  the  ground. 

"  She  does  n't  seem  to  have  a  heart  except  when 
she  plays  the  violin,"  he  muttered  as  he  turned  into 
the  gate  of  the  Villa  Faviola. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MADAME  ANDR& 

MERCEDE  knew  that  a  sculptor,  like  a  pianist,  must 
acquire  technique  ;  that  a  stranger  in  haste  takes 
the  highway,  leaving  short  cuts  to  pleasure-seekers  ; 
that  genius,  like  electricity,  must  be  guided.  There- 
fore she  attended  an  art  school,  and  entered  the 
studio  of  M.  de  Valro,  a  distinguished  sculptor  to 
whom  her  patron  in  Rome  had  given  her  a  letter. 
She  put  her  boy  at  school  near  Paris,  and  took  a 
room  for  herself  near  the  studio.  Although  the 
Count  had  given  her  the  dowry  required  for  an  offi- 
cer's wife,  strict  economy  was  necessar}-.  At  last 
she  was  fairly  started  in  her  new  career,  and  felt  the 
exultation  which  a  true  sailor  knows  when  the  land 
is  growing  dim  and  he  feels  the  blue  water  under 
him.  Before  him  are  anxious  watches,  tempests, 
calms,  and  possible  disaster;  he  is  not  unmindful  of 
them,  but  braves  them  gladly  because  they  are  part 
of  the  life  he  loves. 

Her  progress  in  her  work  was  astonishing,  and  she 
had  already  attracted  the  attention  of  her  master 
at  the  school,  while  M.  de  Valro  began  to  take  a 
genuine  interest  in  her.  Her  industry  was  excep- 
tional ;  she  studied  constantly,  getting  her  only  ex- 
ercise in  going  to  and  from  her  work.  In  her  waking 


94  AGATHA   PAGE. 

hours  she  thought  only  of  art.  Her  enthusiasm 
for  her  new  profession  was  so  great,  that  for  the 
pleasure  of  doing  something  for  those  who  had 
chosen  such  a  life,  she  actually  mended  the  torn 
blouses  of  the  men  employed  in  the  studio,  while 
they  were  at  luncheon. 

They  could  not  understand  her  motive,  and  at 
first  were  wary  of  her;  but  she  gradually  won  their 
confidence  by  her  quiet,  workmanlike  manner,  and 
now  she  was  on  the  best  of  terms  with  them  all, 
although  as  a  rule  they  did  not  take  kindly  to  stu- 
dents. They  gave  her  many  a  useful  hint,  and  often 
came  for  her  when  there  was  some  simple  work  she 
could  do  under  their  direction.  She  had  a  delicate 
sense  of  touch,  combined  with  a  boldness  of  method 
which  these  rough  fellows  were  not  slow  to  appre- 
ciate, and  they  did  not  fail  to  remark  her  progress, 
nor  were  they  insensible  to  her  beauty  and  her  gra- 
cious manner.  They  began  to  take  a  pride  in  her, 
and  over  their  bread  and  wine  at  a  neighboring  cafe* 
told  their  fellow-workmen  from  the  other  studios  of 
the  beautiful  lady  with  the  great  talent. 

"  Now  we  help  her,"  said  the  assistant  foreman  ; 
"  some  day  she  will  have  work  for  all  of  us !  "  And 
his  prophecy  was  hailed  by  a  chorus  of,  "Truly, 
Jacques,  truly  !  " 

Loreno's  common  sense  told  him  that  the  most 
likely  place  to  learn  Mercede's  whereabouts  would 
be  at  her  recent  home,  and  consequently  he  went 
directly  to  Rome.  The  next  morning  he  went  to 
the  Count's  palazzo  and  presented  his  card  to  the 


MADAME  ANDRE.  9o 

concierge.  This  august  personage  uncovered  his 
head  as  he  read  the  name  of  the  visitor,  and  his 
stately  manner  seemed  to  slip  from  his  portly  body 
like  a  shirt,  leaving  only  his  natural  servility.  The 
Marquis  asked  if  there  were  any  servants  in  the 
Count  Ricci's  apartment.  Yes,  there  were  two. 
Very  well ;  the  Marquis  desired  the  concierge  to 
accompany  him  and  secure  him  an  interview  with 
them. 

This  was  easily  done ;  but,  to  his  disappointment, 
the  servants  seemed  to  know  nothing  more  than 
that  Signora  Finelli  had  caused  her  luggage  to  be 
sent  to  the  railway  station  and  had  gone  with  her 
child,  and  without  leaving  any  address.  In  reply 
to  his  minute  cross-questioning  as  to  anything  un- 
usual in  Signora  Finelli's  conduct  or  movements  be- 
fore her  departure,  neither  of  the  servants  could 
recall  any  fact  worth  mentioning,  until  suddenly  the 
housemaid  remembered  that  the  Signora  was  locked 
in  her  room  with  little  Francesco  for  a  day  or  two 
just  before  she  left  the  apartment,  but  she  was  only 
amusing  herself  making  a  bust  of  the  child  in  clay. 
Oh,  yes,  the  maid  had  seen  it  twice,  —  when  doing 
the  room,  and  once  again  when  Signora  Finelli 
fainted.  Oh,  the  faintness  was  nothing.  An  old  man 
had  come  in  with  the  Signora,  and  the  Signora  faint- 
ing suddenly,  the  man  rang  the  bell  and  waited  until 
the  Signora  recovered,  when  he  finished  his  business 
and  went  away  ;  she  thought  now  that  he  had  come 
to  arrange  about  the  luggage  of  the  Signora. 

Loreno  made  many  inquiries  in  other  directions, 
among  them  at  the  railway  station,  but  without 


96  AGATHA   PAGE. 

success ;  still  he  had  learned  much.  To  what  city,  he 
asked  himself,  would  Signora  Finelli,  wishing  to  study 
sculpture,  naturally  betake  herself,  Rome  being  out  of 
the  question  ?  He  decided  against  Florence,  because 
of  the  acquaintance  she  must  have  made  while  there 
with  her  husband.  Indeed,  he  could  see  no  object 
in  her  remaining  in  Italy,  and  there  were  several 
strong  reasons  why  she  should  go  to  some  other 
country.  Paris  naturally  suggested  itself  as  possess- 
ing excellent  art  schools,  while  it  was  big  enough  to 
hide  in.  Then  he  canvassed  the  rival  claims  of 
Vienna,  Munich,  Berlin,  and  London,  but  decided 
that  if  Mercede  were  allured  by  art,  the  chances  were 
in  favor  of  her  having  gone  to  Paris. 

In  any  case,  to  Paris  he  would  go ;  the  Exposition 
was  now  open,  and  there,  if  anywhere,  he  could 
amuse  himself  and  really  try  to  be  less  absorbed  by 
Agatha. 

He  did  not,  however,  ask  himself  whether,  had  the 
Exposition  been  in  Berlin,  he  would  not  have  gone  to 
Paris  all  the  same.  He  avoided  that  line  of  thought, 
for  he  was. not  unconscious  of  a  certain  inconsistency 
in  a  man's  running  away  from  a  girl,  and  then  choos- 
ing a  refuge  where  he  should  constantly  be  upon  her 
service.  But  many  another  man  has  turned  his  back 
upon  desire  —  and  looked  over  his  shoulder. 

Among  his  Parisian  friends  was  the  sculptor  Ros- 
sier,  at  whose  studio  he  had  always  been  a  welcome 
visitor.  With  the  remote  chance  of  learning  some- 
thing about  Mercede,  he  availed  himself  of  his  old 
privilege  immediately  upon  his  arrival.  M.  le  Che- 
valier Rossier,  whom  he  made  his  confidant,  knew 


MADAME  ANDR&  97 

nothing  of  such  a  student  in  any  of  the  studios ;  but 
M.  Rossier  seldom  paid  visits,  and  the  only  chance  of 
help  from  him  was  through  the  casual  inquiries  he 
might  be  amiable  enough  to  make  among  such  of  his 
confreres  as  he  was  thrown  against.  Filippo  was 
embarrassed  in  his  search  by  the  desire  not  to  make 
Mercede's  flight  a  topic  of  public  talk,  and  he  soon 
found  that  this  need  of  secrecy  practically  tied  his 
hands.  He  had  presented  cards  from  M.  Rossier  in- 
troducing him  to  many  of  the  principal  studios,  and 
while  passing  through  them  used  his  eyes  diligently. 
He  caught  no  glimpse  of  any  one  who  resembled 
Mercede  closely  enough  to  give  him  even  a  moment 
of  hope.  He  went  to  several  schools  of  art  and  ex- 
amined the  names  of  the  students,  but  gained  no 
light.  He  frequented  the  brasseries  of  the  Latin 
Quarter,  but  without  result.  He  never  chanced  to 
hear  the  men  of  M.  de  Valro  praise  the  talent  of 
their  prodigy,  nor  had  he  visited  that  sculptor's 
studio,  owing  to  the  fact  that  a  few  days  after  his 
arrival,  when  M.  Rossier,  meeting  M.  de  Valro,  asked 
concerning  the  latter's  pupils  with  an  interest  that 
excited  his  suspicion,  M.  de  Valro  mentioned  only 
two  blockheads,  upon  whose  dulness  he  discoursed 
at  serious  length. 

M.  de  Valro,  who  knew  Mercede's  story,  imme- 
diately told  her  of  this  incident  with  much  glee,  and 
they  agreed  that  the  circumstance  was  suspicious. 

Had  M.  de  Valro  been  content  to  leave  well  enough 
alone,  Loreno  might  have  gone  out  of  Paris  without 
hearing  news  of  Mercede  ;  but  desiring  to  serve  his 
charming  protegee  by  discovering,  if  possible,  what 

7 


98  AGATHA   PAGE. 

had  incited  the  Chevalier  to  show  this  uncommon 
interest  in  his  neighbor's  students,  M.  de  Valro  de- 
cided to  pay  the  Chevalier  Rossier  a  visit.  He  timed 
this  visit  so  that  M.  Rossier  should  have  finished  his 
work,  and  as  an  excuse  for  his  call  pleaded  the  affairs 
of  a  committee,  of  which  they  were  both  members, 
connected  with  the  Exposition. 

While  the  gentlemen  were  together  in  M.  Rossier's 
room,  Loreno  dropped  in  at  the  studio  to  confer  again 
with  his  friend  and  counsellor. 

"  M.  le  Chevalier  is  engaged  for  the  moment,"  said 
one  of  the  men. 

"Then  I  '11  wait  here,"  Loreno  replied,  seating  him- 
self in  a  large  room,  where  some  of  the  men  were  still 
at  work. 

"  I  'd  send  in  word  that  you  are  here,  Monsieur," 
said  the  foreman,  "  but  it 's  M.  de  Valro,  and  they 
have  shut  the  door." 

"  M.  de  Valro  the  sculptor  ?  " 

44  Yes,  Monsieur ;  but  he 's  not  likely  to  stay  long ; " 
and  the  man  busied  himself  at  his  work. 

44  That,"  remarked  another  workman,  dryly,  "  de- 
pends upon  whether  M.  de  Valro  is  as  wild  as  his 
men  about  his  new  student.  They  have  talked  of 
her  for  a  fortnight,  and  don't  seem  to  have  finished 

yet." 

This  sally  was  greeted  with  a  general  laugh  :  nor 
was  it  lost  upon  Loreno.* 

44  Of  '  her '  ?  "  he  said.  "  Is  the  new  student  a 
woman  ?  " 

44  Yes,  Monsieur,"  responded  the  same  speaker,  the 
acknowledged  wit  of  the  building  ;  and  as  he  paused, 


MADAME  ANDRE.  99 

each  workman  stayed  his  hand  and  listened  expect- 
antly. "  For  beauty,  worthy  to  be  the  model  of  M. 
de  Valro's  Juno;  and  for  talent,  worthy,  —  oh,  mon 
Dieu  !  what  can  I  say  ?  —  worthy  to  be  blessed  daily 
by  her  master's  smile  !  " 

This  sally  was  received  with  positive  enthusiasm. 

"  Have  any  of  you  seen  her?  "  Loreno  asked. 

" '  Seen  her  ?  '  No,  Monsieur :  in  the  street  she 
wears  a  heavy  veil ;  in  the  studio  they  put  her  under 
a  cage." 

Loreno  waited  for  the  merriment  to  die  away. 

"  She  is  French,  eh?"  he  asked  as  indifferently  as 
he  could. 

"  I  don't  know,  Monsieur.  Does  any  one  ?  "  and 
he  looked  at  his  comrades. 

"  I  can't  be  sure,"  an  old  man  answered,  "  but  I 
think  some  one  said  she  is  Spanish." 

"  What  is  her  name  ?  "  asked  Loreno. 

"  Andre",  they  call  her,  —  Madame  Andre"." 

"  That 's  curious  Spanish,"  was  the  wit's  comment. 

"Is  she  only  a  student,  did  you  say?"  inquired 
Loreno. 

"  That 's  all,  Monsieur,"  the  wit  spoke  again  ;  "  be- 
gan only  a  month  ago,  and  probably  M.  de  Valro  has 
come  to  hire  this  studio  for  her." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Loreno,  "  I  don't  think  I  '11 
wait  for  M.  Rossier ;"  and  he  strolled  leisurely  toward 
the  door. 

When  he  reached  the  street  his  leisurely  manner 
disappeared,  and  he  strode  rapidly  toward  the  studio 
of  M.  de  Valro. 

"  Now  is  my  time,"  he  reasoned.     "  If  she  be  Mer- 


100  AGATHA   PAGE. 

cede,  he  is  hiding  her ;  otherwise  why  did  he  deceive 
M.  Rossier,  and  why  does  she  wear  a  veil  ?  Should 
he  know  I  am  anxious  to  see  her  he  might  prevent 
it.  Yes,  now  is  my  time,  while  he  is  away  ;  it  is  still 
light,  and  she  may  not  have  stopped  work." 

Arriving  at  the  studio  he  knocked  loudly. 

A  workman  came  in  answer. 

"M.  de  Valro  has  returned?" 

"  Not  yet,  Monsieur." 

Loreno  glanced  at  his  watch.  "  Humph  !  I  will 
go  to  his  room,"  he  said,  "  and  as  soon  as  he  comes, 
mind  you  tell  him  that  the  Marquis  Loreno  is 
waiting." 

The  peremptory  tone  and  the  title  smothered  the 
simple  fellow's  doubts,  and  doffing  his  square  cap  of 
paper  he  led  the  distinguished  visitor  across  a  large 
room  full  of  statues  and  casts,  and  thence  through 
several  smaller  rooms,  into  one  which  was  evidently 
the  modelling-room  of  the  master. 

"  Shall  I  send  for  M.  de  Valro  ?  "  asked  the  man, 
placing  a  chair  for  Filippo. 

"  That  is  scarcely  necessary  ;  he  is  with  M.  Rossier, 
and  will  probably  come  soon.  In  the  mean  time  I 
will  have  a  chat  with  Madame  Andre.  She  has  not 
gone  yet  ?  " 

"  No,  Monsieur,  not  yet." 

"  Where  is  Madame  ?  " 

"In  her  own  room,  Monsieur,  —  the  second  beyond 
this.  Shall  I  announce  M.  le  Marquis?  " 

"  No,  I  '11  announce  myself,"  he  said  carelessly  ; 
"but  don't  forget  to  inform  M.  de  Valro  of  my 
arrival." 


MADAME  ANDRfi.  101 

"Monsieur  may  rely  upon  me  ;  "  and  opening  the 
door  of  the  adjoining  room  the  man  waited  for  the 
nobleman  to  pass. 

Filippo  walked  without  hesitation  to  the  second 
room  beyond  and  knocked. 

u  Entrez,"  was  called  in  a  woman's  voice. 

The  intruder  obeyed,  and  closing  the  door  behind 
him,  stood  in  the  presence  of  a  young  woman  of 
striking  height  and  beautjr,  whose  large  black  eyes 
regarded  him  with  surprise.  She  had  a  silk  handker- 
chief of  bright  colors  bound  about  her  head,  and  wore 
a  blue  blouse  to  protect  her  dress. 

"  She  looks  like  a  gypsy  queen,"  thought  Loreno, 
as  he  went  toward  her. 

Regarding  him  calmly  she  waited  to  hear  his 
business. 

"  I  think  I  have  the  pleasure  of  addressing  the 
Signora  Finelli,"  said  Loreno,  in  Italian. 

Her  dark  eyes  opened  and  her  figure  reached  its 
full  height. 

"  Who  are  you,  sir  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  The  Marquis  Loreno.  I  come  in  the  name  of 
your  cousin,  the  Signorina  Page." 

The  artist's  eyes  closed  slightly,  and  she  watched 
the  stranger  without  replying.  He  bore  her  scrutiny 
stoically,  noting  the  quick  impulses  recorded  by  the 
expressive  face,  and  gave  her  time  to  think.  She  was 
evidently  disconcerted,  and  uncertain  what  to  do. 

"  Why  do  you  intrude  upon  me?"  she  demanded 
finally. 

"  Out  of  consideration  for  those  to  whom  you  sent 
your  letter." 


102  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  You  have  made  a  mistake,  sir ;  my  name  is 
Andre*." 

"  Is  your  father  not  the  Count  Rieci  ? "  was  the 
firm  inquiry. 

The  dark  eyes  flashed  with  sudden  fury,  and  the 
full  lips  trembled. 

"  That,  sir,  is  my  affair,  not  yours.  I  decline  to 
submit  to  this  impertinence."  And  pointing  haugh- 
tily toward  the  door,  she  added,  "  Leave  the  room  !  " 

Loreno  bowed  slightly.  "  Signora,"  he  said,  "you 
have  a  perfect  right  to  dismiss  me,  and  I  will  go; 
you  will  permit  me,  however,  to  add  that  I  have  no 
further  reason  to  remain,  since  my  only  object  was  to 
assure  myself  that  you  are  well,  and  not  in  need  of 
friends." 

She  had  supposed  he  came  to  upbraid  her,  and  if 
possible  to  compel  her  to  return  to  Rome,  therefore 
the  spirit  of  his  answer  perplexed  her. 

"  But  I  do  not  know  you,  sir,"  and  her  tone  was 
less  imperious. 

"  That  is  scarcely  my  fault,  Signora ;  "  his  face  was 
lit  by  a  faint  smile,  "  and  I  have  little  encouragement 
to  try  again." 

"  What  I  are  you  an  amateur  detective  ?  "  she 
asked  scornfully. 

"  I  should  rather  say  a  house-breaker,"  he  replied 
amiably. 

She  was  in  no  humor  for  banter,  and  her  softer 
mood  vanished.  She  tapped  her  foot  impatiently. 

"  This  is  no  time,  sir,  for  nonsense,"  she  exclaimed, 
"  and  I  will  speak  plainly  and  finally.  I  am  the 
daughter  of  Count  Ricci ;  I  have  for  reasons  of  my 


MADAME  ANDRE.  103 

own  come  to  Paris ;  I  do  not  intend  to  leave,  and  I 
will  not  be  hunted  down  like  an  escaped  convict." 

Loreno's  face  was  now  grave  enough. 

"  No  one  questions  your  right  to  be  in  Paris,"  he 
responded  ;  "  no  one  intends  to  trouble  you.  One 
who  loves  you  is  anxious  concerning  your  safety  and 
happiness,  and  this  is  the  reason  for  my  visit." 

His  pacific  words  calmed  her  again. 

"  You  mean  my  father,  of  course." 

"  No,  Signora ;  I  do  not  represent  the  Count,  only 
your  cousin." 

The  effect  of  this  declaration  was  twofold.  While 
relieved  that  her  father  had  no  intention  of  embarrass- 
ing her  new  ambition,  she  resented  his  apparent  indif- 
ference to  her  flight. 

"  I  might  have  known  that  my  father  would  not 
trouble  himself  about  me,"  was  her  bitter  comment. 

"  How  about  your  cousin  ?  "  he  ventured. 

She  remained  silent  for  some  time,  and  when  she 
spoke  her  voice  and  manner  were  changed. 

"  I  am  not  indifferent  to  my  cousin's  good  inten- 
tion," she  said  calmly,  "and  you  may  tell  her  that  I 
am  well,  where  you  found  me,  and  what  I  am  doing. 
But  tell  her,  also,  not  to  come  here,  nor  to  send  to  me 
again ; "  she  hesitated,  and  then  added  resolutely, 
"  for  I  have  done  with  the  past !  " 

"  And  with  the  past  you  mean  that  you  renounce 
your  father  and  your  cousin." 

"  It  is  necessary  !  "  and  her  voice  was  hard. 

His  thoughts  flew  to  Agatha.  "  It  is  inhuman  !  " 
he  exclaimed  indignantly,  "  and  if  you  really  mean  it, 
you  will  live  to  regret  it." 


104  AGATHA   PAGE. 

She  was  aroused  again,  and  laughed  scornfully. 

"  I  '11  risk  that." 

"  Risk  it,  — risk  what  ?"  The  words  which  followed 
were  spoken  slowly  and  impressively.  "  You  propose 
to  stake  everything  upon  your  health,  your  chance  of 
success,  and  the  rapture  success  will  bring ;  heedless  of 
conscience,  indifferent  to  proved  love,  risking  even  the 
future  of  your  own  child.  Believe  me,  Madam,  few 
gamblers  would  be  so  reckless  !  " 

"  Mere  words !  "  she  sneered.  Then  her  eyes  half 
closed  and  she  spoke  vehemently :  "  Why  should  I 
fear  conscience  ?  Am  I  not  more  sinned  against  than 
sinning,  —  dishonored  by  my  father  and  deceived  by 
my  husband  ?  You  call  me  indifferent  to  proved  love  ! 
Who  loves  me  ?  Who  merits  my  consideration  ?  " 

"Agatha  Page!" 

She  stood  silent,  with  her  hands  clenched  ;  presently 
the  fingers  opened,  and  she  folded  her  hands  before 
her. 

"  Agatha  has  been  true  to  me,"  she  said,  as  though 
thinking  aloud. 

"  And  is  true  still ;  what  motive  under  Heaven 
except  the  knowledge  of  her  great  love  for  you  would 
have  impelled  me  to  come  here  ?  However,  it  is  best 
now  that  I  should  go." 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  she  said  quickly,  as  he  moved 
toward  the  door.  "  I  wish  to  think." 

He  turned  and  waited  for  her  to  speak.  She  was 
evidently  considering  something  which  troubled  her, 
for  her  face  grew  anxious. 

"  What  do  you  mean,"  she  asked,  "  by  what  you 
said  about  my  child,  —  about  risking  his  future  ?  " 


MADAME  ANDRE.  105 

"Even  should  his  material  interests  not  suffer,  he 
will,  by  your  act,  be  cut  off  from  the  position  your 
family  would  give  him,  and  his  future  thus  be  greatly 
handicapped." 

44  He  should  be  willing  to  sacrifice  something  for 
the  sake  of  his  mother's  pride." 

"  For  your  sake  I  hope  he  will  be,  but —  " 

"  Well,  I  '11  risk  even  that,"  she  declared. 

"  Very  well,  Madam  ;  I  have  nothing  more  to  say." 

"  One  moment !  " 

"  I  cannot  wait  any  longer,"  he  replied.  "  M.  de 
Valro  is  likely  to  come  in  upon  us  at  any  moment.  I 
am  a  stranger  to  him,  and  must  be  prepared  to  meet 
him." 

"•  He  is  coming  now,"  she  whispered  hastily ;  and 
Loreno  heard  footsteps  approaching  the  door.  "  I  '11 
present  you  as  a  friend  of  mine ;  stay  until  he  goes. 
I  can't  decide  anything  at  this  moment." 

The  door  opened  and  a  small  man  with  bushy  gray 
hair  and  pointed  beard  entered.  He  looked  at 
Loreno  curiously,  and  then  came  forward. 

Mercede  presented  the  Marquis  as  though  he  were 
an  old  friend. 

It  was  so  amiable  of  M.  le  Marquis  to  come,  the 
sculptor  declared  with  much  effusion,  and  he  should 
never  forgive  himself  for  not  having  been  in  his 
studio  to  receive  Monsieur;  but  he  consoled  himself 
because  Monsieur  had  been  able  to  find  their  common 
friend  Madame  Andre". 

Filippo  was  not  to  be  outdone,  and  apologized  for 
his  intrusion  in  the  master's  absence ;  and  then  the 
two  gentlemen  bowed  again  and  eyed  each  other 


106  AGATHA   PAGE. 

suspiciously.  After  a  little  general  conversation  which 
dragged  wofully,  the  sculptor  excused  himself,  saying 
that  such  old  friends  must  have  much  to  say  to  each 
other. 

Mercede  did  not  speak  until  the  sound  of  his  foot- 
steps had  died  away. 

"  How  did  my  cousin  come  to  consult  you  about 
this  affair  ?  "  she  asked. 

Then  Filippo  gave  her  a  brief  account  of  the  cir- 
cumstances, and  while  Mercede  listened  she  found 
herself  modifying  the  unfavorable  judgment  she  had 
formed  of  him.  A  few  more  questions  enabled  her  to 
place  him  socially,  for  she  knew  his  sister  by  name, 
and  was  familiar  with  his  family  history,  although  she 
had  never  happened  to  meet  Filippo  during  her  short 
Roman  season. 

She  felt  decidedly  less  aggrieved  at  the  intrusion  of 
the  young  Marquis,  now  that  she  understood  his  mo- 
tive, and  with  a  woman's  intuition  having  jumped 
at  a  just  estimate  of  the  relations  which  existed  be- 
tween him  and  her  lovely  cousin,  she  began  to  feel 
even  kindly  toward  him.  She  tried  by  suavity  of 
manner  to  make  amends  for  her  previous  behavior, 
and  her  success  was  rapid ;  because  Loreno  not  only 
failed  to  resent  her  indignation,  but  thought  it  not 
extraordinary,  considering  the  cause  he  had  given 
her. 

"  You  have  n't  done  me  the  honor  of  even  glancing 
at  my  work,"  she  said,  smiling;  "if  you  are  indifferent, 
my  cousin  may  not  be  so." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  protested,  "  I  am  most  eager 
to  see  it." 


MADAME  ANDRE.  107 

He  stepped  before,  her  work  and  examined  it  criti- 
cally. She  was  copying  a  head  of  Goethe. 

"•  The  original  is  in  Weimar,  is  it  not  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  I  really  don't  know ;  I  found  the  cast  here  and 
was  fascinated  by  it." 

"  It  is  my  favorite  bust  of  Goethe,  and  you  are 
making  an  admirable  copy." 

"Is  it  not  a  beautiful,  a  fascinating  face?"  she 
exclaimed  rapturously.  "Do  you  suppose  it  is  like 
him  ?  " 

"Somewhat  idealized  probably,  but  still  a  likeness." 

She  gazed  upon  the  bust  for  fully  a  minute  before 
speaking,  her  large  eyes  full  of  light,  her  face  bearing 
the  intensity  which  often  distinguished  it.  Presently 
she  turned  to  her  companion.  "Think,"  she  said, 
"  what  a  delight  it  must  have  been  actually  to  look 
upon  such  a  man  and  hear  him  speak.  Is  there  any 
Italian  or  French  translation  of  his  works?" 

"  Oh,  certainly  ; "  and  he  mentioned  the  best  in 
each  language. 

"  Let  me  write  down  the  names." 

This  she  did  with  a  girlish  enthusiasm  quite  in 
contrast  with  her  usual  maturity  of  manner. 

"  What  a  superb  creature  !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  she 
stood  again  in  rapt  admiration  before  the  poet.  "  I 
can't  imagine  such  a  man  ever  doubting  the  strength 
of  his  genius,  can  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  suppose  Goethe  ever  truly  doubted  the 
strength  of  his  genius.  Yet  such  natures,  you  know, 
live  among  the  clouds  ;  and  it  is  but  natural  that  they 
should  sometimes  lose  sight  of  their  broad  horizon,  and 
even  wonder  if  they  are  ever  to  see  it  again." 


108  AGATHA   PAGE. 

She  listened  eagerly  to  his  words,  applying  them  to 
herself;  but  her  only  answer  was  a  trembling  sigh. 

Her  ambition  was  intense  and  her  self-confidence 
unlimited ;  it  was  easy  to  stimulate  her  by  praise,  but 
it  would  have  been  impossible  to  shake  her  conviction 
that  she  had  a  great  career  before  her.  True,  she 
had  occasional  trepidation,  intense  while  it  lasted  but 
sure  to  pass,  for  the  feeling  was  but  superficial,  —  the 
result  of  temperament,  not  of  consciousness.  "  The 
book  is  written  to  be  read  now  or  by  posterity,  I 
care  not  which,"  calmly  wrote  John  Kepler.  "  I  can 
well  wait  a  century  for  a  reader,  since  God  has  waited 
six  thousand  years  for  a  discoverer."  And  yet  who 
that  is  familiar  with  his  life  can  doubt  that  John 
Kepler  suffered  days  and  even  weeks  of  apprehension 
while  he  was  gathering  immortality  from  the  stars  ? 
There  are  natures  as  far  above  the  plane  of  common 
comprehension  as  the  planets  are  above  the  earth. 
Their  light  shines  down  upon  us  and  we  gaze  up  to 
them,  while  our  wise  men  gravely  weigh  and  measure 
and  compare  them,  even  mark  their  spots  and  count 
their  satellites.  But  after  all,  the  strongest  telescope 
has  failed  as  yet  to  pierce  a  planet. 

Mercede  sighed ;  but  whatever  the  cause,  it  was 
not  from  consciousness  of  being  ordained  to  dwell 
unto  death  in  the  land  of  Moab. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AT  THE  VILLA  D' ESTE. 

BOTH  Agatha  and  her  uncle  considered  carefully 
the  suggestion  which  Loreno  had  made  to  each  in 
behalf  of  the  other  regarding  the  benefit  of  a  change 
of  scene. 

Agatha  confessed  to  herself  that  personally  she 
would  welcome  a  change,  for  she  was  thoroughly  un- 
happy and  restless.  Yet  she  acknowledged  that  the 
Brianza  had  never  been  more  beautiful  than  now, 
and  that  the  opportunities  for  pleasure  and  usefulness 
which  had  before  occupied  her  time  still  existed. 
She  did  the  same  old  things,  visited  the  familiar  spots, 
called  on  the  sick  and  aided  the  poor.  But  the  old- 
time  joy  was  gone  out  from  these  things,  and  her  na- 
ture yearned  for  something  which  her  eyes  seemed  to 
seek  in  the  shadows  of  the  distant  Alps  or  among  the 
stars.  But  she  shrank  from  suggesting  a  journey  to 
her  uncle  lest  he  might  divine  her  wish  to  get  away. 
She  could  not  propose  to  take  him  where  he  must 
mix  with  the  world  whether  he  would  or  no.  The 
General,  on  his  part,  only  hesitated  to  make  the  sug- 
gestion, thinking  that  perfect  quiet  and  the  old  asso- 
ciations would  do  more  for  Agatha  than  change  of 
scene  with  its  attendant  bustle  and  discomfort.  She 


110  AGATHA   PAGE. 

appeared  to  go  about  her  customary  occupations  as 
usual,  but  he  saw  that  she  did  not  regain  her  color. 
Therefore  he  decided  to  sink  his  own  preference  for 
home  in  his  duty  to  her,  provided  Padre  Sacconi 
should  agree  with  Loreno  that  she  needed  a  change. 
He  sent  for  the  priest,  with  the  result  that  he  took 
occasion,  that  same  day  at  dinner,  to  suggest  a  trip. 

Agatha  received  the  idea  with  unfeigned  delight, 
supposing  that  he  made  it  on  his  own  behalf;  and 
they  occupied  the  remainder  of  the  day  studying 
guide-books  and  examining  maps,  with  a  view  to  a 
little  trip  into  Switzerland  by  way  of  the  Italian 
lakes. 

"  But,"  said  the  Count,  "  we  don't  want  to  go 
alone ;  we  need  a  party." 

In  making  this  proposal  the  old  gentleman  was 
truly  unselfish,  for  the  last  thing  in  the  world  that  he 
desired  was  to  have  strangers  about  him.  Agatha 
felt  that  her  own  preference  ought  not  to  count 
against  that  of  her  uncle,  and  therefore  she  heartily 
seconded  his  suggestion,  and  against  both  their  wills 
they  blindly  determined  to  invite  the  Duke  Faviola 
and  his  family  to  accompany  them. 

The  next  morning  the  General  drove  over  to  see 
the  Duchess  and  unfold  the  plan.  She  received  it 
with  surprise,  but  was  not  averse  to  the  idea,  and 
agreed  to  consult  the  Duke  about  it,  and  late  in  the 
afternoon  sent  a  note  to  the  Villa  Ricci  acceding  to 
the  proposition.  Thereupon,  to  Agatha's  increasing 
astonishment,  her  uncle  bade  her  invite  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  to  luncheon  the  following  day,  that  the 
trip  might  be  talked  over  and  its  details  arranged. 


AT  THE  VILLA   D'  ESTE.  Ill 

On  the  morrow,  therefore,  the  plans  were  com- 
pleted. The  party  was  to  leave  in  the  General's 
coach  two  clays  later  ;  drive  as  far  as  the  Villa  d'  Este, 
on  Lake  Como ;  remain  there  until  the  early  part  of 
the  following  week ;  then  drive  to  Varese,  and  after  a 
few  days  go  on  to  Lake  Maggiore.  Whether  the 
Count  should  send  his  horses  back  from  Stresa,  or 
drive  the  party  over  the  Simplon  Pass  into  Switzer- 
land, was  left  to  be  determined  by  circumstances. 

On  the  day  appointed,  having  made  an  early  start, 
they  reached  Como  before  the  heat  of  the  sun  was 
oppressive,  and  skirting  the  lower  end  of  the  lake 
went  gayly  toward  Cernobbio. 

The  Count  Ricci  drove  the  four-in-hand,  with 
Gaeta  beside  him.  Agatha  sat  with  the  Duchess, 
and  the  Duke  was  facing  them.  The  bells  upon  the 
harness  and  the  merry  notes  of  the  horn  cleared  the 
way  of  small  vehicles,  and  the  spirited  horses  whirled 
the  coach  steadily  over  the  smooth  road. 

"  By  the  bye,"  remarked  the  Duchess,  "  I  received 
a  letter  from  my  brother  yesterday,  and  he  asked  to 
be  remembered  to  you ;  he  is  in  Paris,  and  seems 
to  be  enjoying  himself  immensely." 

"The  Exposition  must  be  very  interesting," 
Agatha  ventured. 

"  He  does  n't  say  much  about  that.  He  has  ap- 
parently been  devoting  himself  to  the  studios." 

Agatha's  heart  beat  fast  and  she  did  not  trust  her- 
self to  speak. 

"Perhaps  I  have  the  letter  in  here,"  the  Duchess 
said,  opening  her  hand-bag.  "  Ah,  no,  I  put  it  in  my 
pocket.  Ecco!  it  may  amuse  you." 


112  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Agatha  opened  it  with  peculiar  sensations.  She 
knew  the  characters  well,  for  she  had  studied  every 
slant  and  twist  in  the  translation  Filippo  had  written 
for  her.  She  read  the  letter  deliberately,  and  with 
keen  admiration  for  its  tripping  naturalness  ;  but  one 
passage  she  read  with  special  interest;  it  ran  as 
follows :  — 

"  When  I  came  to  Paris,  I  had  only  a  dim  hope  of  meet- 
ing a  certain  artist  who  had  left  Rome,  but  for  what  part 
of  the  world  I  had  no  way  of  learning.  This  is  but  the 
fourteenth  day  since  I  left  you,  and  yet  already  the  artist 
referred  to  and  I  have  twice  gone  together  to  the  Expo- 
sition. When  I  mentioned  the  strange  chance  which  had 
favored  me,  my  friend  asked  if  on  the  day  which  brought 
us  together  I  had  brushed  against  a  hunchback  ;  and  I 
recalled  the  fact  that  I  had  been  so  fortunate  about  that 
time,  and  I  believed  it  was  upon  that  very  morning." 

Agatha  had  no  smile  for  this  popular  Italian 
superstition,  but  re-read  the  passage  with  great 
earnestness. 

"  He  does  n't  really  say  whether  this  artist  is  a 
man  or  a  woman,"  she  said  musingly,  and  with  a  wild 
hope  that  it  might  be  Mercede. 

"  Does  n't  he  ?  Let  me  see."  The  Duchess  sus- 
pected that  Agatha  was  a  little  jealous,  and  having 
examined  the  passage  critically,  thought  to  comfort 
her. 

"  You  are  right,  he  does  n't,"  she  confessed  ;  "  but 
it 's  accidental,  for  if  it  were  a  woman,  why  should  n't 
he  say  so,  especially  to  me,  with  whom  he  is  always 
so  frank?"  But  all  the  same  she  thought  Loreno 


AT  THE    VILLA   V  ESTE.  113 

had  gone  out  of  his  way  to  avoid  mentioning  the  sex 
of  his  friend. 

"I  merely  observed  the  fact,"  Agatha  responded, 
trying  to  hide  her  excitement  behind  a  smile  arid  a 
careless  manner. 

The  horses  left  the  highway,  and  the  coach  rolled 
past  the  lodge  at  the  entrance  of  the  Villa  d'  Este 
grounds,  winding  through  a  charming  grove,  to  the 
imposing  building  which  had  once  been  the  home  of 
a  Buonaparte,  and  in  which  the  great  Emperor  had 
been  entertained. 

They  found  that  the  salon  of  the  apartment  re- 
served for  them  opened  upon  a  balcony  from  which 
they  could  look  into  the  clear  water  of  the  lake. 
There  were  easy-chairs  upon  it,  and  an  awning  pro- 
tected it  from  the  sun.  Here  they  soon  gathered 
and  were  refreshed  with  granitas. 

"Where  shall  we  have  our  meals?"  asked  the 
General.  "The  ladies  must  decide." 

"I  vote  for  the  table  d'hSte,"  said  the  Duchess. 
'v'  It 's  amusing,  —  at  least  for  a  few  days ;  don't  you 
think  so,  Agatha  ?  " 

"  Yes,  by  all  means  the  table  d'hote ;  we  have  come 
for  diversion,  and  that's  the  place  for  it." 

So  when  luncheon  was  announced  they  went  to 
the  public  dining-room.  Agatha  sat  between  the 
Duchess  and  her  uncle,  and  upon  glancing  around 
the  table  saw  that  the  guests  were  principally  fo- 
restieri,  the  majority  of  whom  were  English  or 
American. 

Opposite  her  sat  a  gentleman,  tall  and  lean,  whose 
age  was  from  thirty-five  to  forty,  but  whose  fringe  of 

8 


114  AGATHA    PAGE. 

closely-cropped  hair,  encircling  his  small  burnished 
head,  was  prematurely  white,  —  suggesting  chalk- 
cliffs  around  a  peaceful  bay.  His  short  beard  also 
was  quite  gray,  and  his  voice,  when  he  addressed 
his  neighbor,  seemed  to  Agatha  almost  as  neutral. 
His  skin  was  fresh  and  soft,  his  manner  studiously 
prim,  but  his  eyes  were  small  and  black  and  bright. 
His  name  was  Dow  —  Mr.  Peter  Dow,  formerly  of 
Boston,  U.  S.  A.,  where  he  had  made  a  snug  for- 
tune in  trade,  which  enabled  him  to  come  abroad  and 
establish  his  headquarters  in  Rome,  — "  nice  old 
Rome,"  as  he  was  wont  to  apostrophize  her,  "  where 
one  sees  everybody,  and  yet  is  able  to  pick  and 
choose." 

Mr.  Dow  had  no  prejudice  against  America;  indeed, 
he  recognized,  and  upon  occasion  acknowledged,  the 
solidity  of  her  commercial  claims  ;  but  in  America, 
or  rather  in  the  only  spot  of  that  excellent  country 
where  a  gentleman  would  care  to  be  born,  he  found 
that  the  picking  and  choosing  were  not  left  to  one 
who  had  no  grandfather  or  father  whom  any  one 
really  knew.  This  fact  he  fully  accepted,  nor  did 
he  resent  it ;  on  the  contrary,  he  thoroughly  approved 
of  the  spirit  upon  which  it  rested,  and  in  the  relations 
which  he  was  carefully  establishing  in  the  Old  World, 
he  studiously  applied  the  pick-and-choose  principle 
which  had  driven  him  from  the  New  World.  There 
was  no  more  rigid  social  disciplinarian  in  Rome  than 
Mr.  Peter  Dow  ;  he  was  a  veritable  martinet  in  the 
matter  of  birth,  and  had  been  decidedly  wary  of  his 
neighbor  (a  practical  middle-aged  Englishwoman  of 
quick,  nervous  manner,  whose  words  shot  from  her 


AT  THE    VILLA   D'  ESTE.  115 

tongue  like  peas  blown  from  a  tube)  until  he  over- 
heard her  say  that  Lady  Croftly,  of  Croftly  Manor, 
was  coming  down  from  Menaggio  to  pass  the  next 
day  with  her. 

Mr.  Dow  had  been  scanning  the  hotel  register, 
and  was  deeply  sensible  of  the  possibility  which  now 
presented  itself,  of  making  the  very  desirable  acquain- 
tance of  some  real  aristocrats  of  Rome.  But  there 
was  a  serious  drawback  ;  for  among  the  names  of 
the  new  arrivals  he  had  read  that  of  plain  "Miss 
Agatha  Page,"  and  the  golden-haired,  reserved-look- 
ing girl  opposite,  was  undoubtedly  she.  Her  presence 
made  him  suspicious  of  the  whole  party.  He  be- 
lieved himself  inclined  toward  impulse,  and  as  he  had 
an  almost  morbid  fear  of  becoming  the  slave  of  any 
habit,  he  rigidly  disciplined  himself  against  acquiring 
the  habit  of  acting  without  proper  prudence.  His 
experience  in  life  had  taught  him  that  haste  was 
disadvantageous  nine  times  in  ten.  Indeed,  he  had 
formulated  a  maxim  which  he -held  in  great  respect, 
"  Often  the  quickest  way  of  getting  there,  is  to  sit 
down."  Moreover,  his  experience  in  Italy  had  taught 
him  that  titles  were  too  abundant  to  be  taken  without 
ringing. 

Mr.  Dow's  intuition  that  he  was  impulsive  was  not 
without  foundation ;  but  his  impulse  took  a  form 
upon  which,  curiously  enough,  he  prided  himself. 
In  other  words,  Mr.  Dow  had  a  settled  habit  of 
jumping  to  conclusions,  which  habit  he  cherished 
as  sagacity. 

His  first  glance  told  him  that  this  young  girl  was 
probably  English,  —  more  than  likely  of  the  middle 


116  AGATHA   PAGE. 

class  ;  her  father  in  trade,  as  a  matter  of  course.  Or, 
if  she  were  American,  her  home  was  in  New  York,  or 
possibly  Philadelphia,  but  certainly  not  in  Boston  ; 
for  he  knew  all  the  Pages  of  Boston,  —  at  least  he 
knew  all  about  them,  —  and  there  was  n't  an  unmar- 
ried Page  girl  of  her  age,  unless  of  the  Springfield 
branch,  and  he  was  inclined  to  think  that  the  Spring- 
field Pages  had  sent  their  eldest  girls  to  Vassar,  while 
this  girl  must  have  been  in  Italy  a  long  time  to  be 
able  to  talk  Italian  so  fluently  as  she  was  now  doing 
with  the  Duchess.  She  could  n't  be  the  sister  of  the 
Duchess,  that  his  sharp  little  eyes  told  him ;  and  his 
ears  discovered  presently  that  she  was  called  "  Miss 
Agatha  "  by  the  child,  and  plain  "  Agatha  "  by  the 
old  man,  who  was  registered  as  a  general, — probably 
the  father  of  the  Duchess.  He  believed  this  girl  to 
be  either  the  companion  of  the  Duchess,  or  the  gov- 
erness of  the  child.  Her  dress  was  unquestionably 
simple,  which  indicated  companion  ;  but  her  face, 
while  certainly  lovely,  was  intelligent,  and  probably 
meant  governess.  The  marked  courtesy  with  which 
the  Duke  treated  her  was  not  lost  upon  Mr.  Dow,  and 
he  forthwith  decided  that  the  Duke  was  a  thorough 
Italian,  —  which  meant  that  in  certain  respects  he 
was  no  better  than  he  should  be.  Take  it  all  in  all, 
the  party  was  one  to  be  watched  carefully  for  future 
developments,  as  their  acquaintance  might  prove  to 
be  a  fair  business  risk. 

While  these  judgments  were  forming,  a  young  man 
entered  the  dining-room,  and  passing  behind  Mr.  Dow 
took  his  place  near  the  head  of  the  table.  Agatha's 
eyes  followed  him  with  interest.  He  was  evidently 


AT   THE    VILLA   D'  ESTE.  117 

an  Italian,  —  a  Neapolitan,  she  thought,  when  she 
heard  him  address  a  gentleman  opposite  him.  His  age 
was  about  twenty,  yet  his  face,  when  in  repose,  seemed 
older.  Its  expression  was  frank,  and  the  features  told 
plainly  that  he  was  keenly  sensitive  and  proud.  His 
manner  was  courteous,  even  elegant ;  his  eyes  were 
large  and  brown,  and  showed  a  high  degree  of  sen- 
sibility ;  his  hair  would  not  admit  of  parting,  and  like 
his  delicate  beard  and  mustache  curled  tightly.  His 
teeth  were  noticeably  good,  and  altogether,  he  was  a 
decidedly  handsome  and  refined-looking  young  fellow. 
Agatha's  admiration  was  not  like  that  which  she  felt 
for  Loreno's  stronger,  more  virile  beauty;  it  possessed, 
rather,  the  abstract  quality  which  one  bestows  upon 
a  portrait. 

On  their  balcony  after  luncheon  the  party  chatted 
about  their  neighbors,  and  Agatha  drew  upon  herself 
the  mild  chaffing  of  the  others  by  her  partiality  for 
the  young  Italian. 

In  the  quiet  of  the  afternoon  Agatha  and  the 
Duchess  went  for  a  walk,  and  while  following  a  path 
which  stretched  up  the  wooded  hill  behind  the  hotel, 
came  upon  a  fountain,  surmounted  by  a  colossal  statue 
of  Hercules,  from  which  a  broad  band  of  velvet  grass 
swept  like  an  unwound  scroll  to  the  terrace  overhang- 
ing the  lake.  A  long  flight  of  stone  steps  bordered 
this  scroll  on  either  side,  each  balustrade  forming  an 
aqueduct  to  guide  the  overflow  of  the  generou.s  foun- 
tain to  a  large  basin  of  gold-fish  far  below  ;  and  drops 
of  rushing  water  sometimes  leaped  over  these  shallow 
channels  and  sprinkled  the  unwary  climber. 

They  stood   for  some  moments  looking  upon  the 


118  AGATHA   PAGE. 

lake  and  the  mountains  bordering  its  opposite  shore, 
until  the  Duchess  turned  at  the  sound  of  a  footstep 
behind  her.  The  young  Italian  stood  near,  gazing 
with  delight  upon  the  same  scene. 

"  Come,  Agatha,"  said  the  Duchess  in  Italian,  "  let 
us  look  for  the  Grotto." 

Agatha  turned.     "  Do  you  know  the  way  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  it  is  above  us  somewhere." 

"  That  seems  a  trifle  indefinite." 

The  Duchess  glanced  at  the  young  stranger,  and 
after  hesitating  an  instant,  asked  if  he  could  direct 
them. 

He  lifted  his  hat  and  seemed  to  be  thinking.  "In 
truth,  Signora,"  he  said,  "there  are  so  many  inter- 
secting paths  that  it  is  a  little  difficult  to  direct  you  ; 
but  if  you  will  permit  I  will  accompany  you." 

"  I  do  not  like  to  trouble  you." 

"It  will  be  a  pleasure ;  pray  permit  me,"  and  he  led 
the  way. 

"  You  must  have  been  here  for  some  time,"  re- 
marked the  Duchess  to  their  guide,  "  to  know  your 
way  so  well." 

As  he  turned  his  face  Agatha  was  confirmed  in 
her  favorable  impression. 

"  I  have  been  here  a  week,"  he  said,  "and  the  Park, 
like  any  other  puzzle,  is  not  difficult  to  make  out 
when  once  }rou  know  it." 

The  Duchess  gave  him  one  of  her  bright  smiles. 
*'  Pardon  me,"  she  said,  "  but  you  speak  like  a 
Neapolitan." 

"  I  was  born  in  Calabria,"  he  said  simply,  "  but  I 
have  been  much  in  Naples." 


AT  THE    VILLA   Z>'  ESTE.  119 

"  I  am  very  fond  of  Naples,"  was  her  answer.  "  My 
husband  and  I  often  go  there  for  the  opera  season." 
Something  in  his  face  led  her  to  add,  "  You  are  fond 
of  music." 

He  became  grave.     "  Sometimes,"  he  replied. 

"  '  Sometimes '  ?    That  is  a  strange  answer." 

"  Still,  it  is  a  true  one."  And  as  he  spoke  his  face 
was  almost  sad.  Then  as  they  turned  a  sharp  bend 
he  added,  "Ecco,  Signora!  the  Grotto." 

The  entrance  was  formed  by  two  columns,  one  of 
granite,  the  other  of  large  stones  roughly  put  together 
surmounted  by  a  rich  capital,  the  whole  well  cov- 
ered with  ivy.  It  looked  black  and  uninviting,  and 
the  ladies  held  back. 

"  You  will  find  it  interesting  and  quite  safe,"  said 
their  escort,  "  and  you  may  explore  it  without  fear." 

"  What  do  you  think,  Agatha  ?  "  and  the  elder  lady 
turned  doubtfully. 

"  It  looks  ghoulish,"  Agatha  replied. 

"  Let  us  explore  it  to-morrow  with  one  of  the  gen- 
tlemen," suggested  the  Duchess. 

"  As  you  choose.  Still,  it's  absurd  to  be  afraid, — 
let  us  see  it  now." 

The  youth  stood  waiting  to  bid  them  adieu,  but 
seeing  their  hesitation,  proffered  his  further  services 
as  their  guide. 

"  But  we  are  imposing  upon  you,"  protested  the 
Duchess. 

"  Pray  don't  think  so,  Signora,"  was  the  courteous 
reply.  "  Permit  me  to  enter  ;  I  have  a  box  of  tapers 
and  will  strike  one." 

In  a  moment  the  cave  was  illuminated,  and  they 


120  AGATHA    PAGE. 

entered  boldly,  and  by  means  of  the  tapers  went  easily 
through  the  various  passages  and  chambers,  connected 
by  stone  steps.  The  general  effect  was  of  cloisters ; 
and  among  its  other  chambers  was  a  little  chapel 
lighted  by  a  dome,  while  in  the  stalactite  passages 
were  round  windows  of  red  glass  through  which  the 
light  from  without  struggled  uncertainly.  There  were 
also  Gothic  windows,  overtopped  with  ivy,  opening 
into  courts  containing  stone  busts  upon  pedestals, 
and  in  the  centre  of  one  of  these  courts  stood  a  grim 
obelisk.  Presently  they  came  out  again  into  the 
daylight,  some  yards  higher  than  the  entrance. 

The  young  guide  had  duly  pointed  out  the  various 
objects  of  interest,  and  both  ladies  thanked  him 
warmly  as  he  left  them. 

An  hour  later,  as  they  entered  the  broad  corridor 
of  the  hotel,  the  sound  of  a  piano  reached  them,  and 
walking  to  the  music-room,  they  glanced  in  to  see 
who  the  performer  was.  To  their  surprise  they 
saw  the  young  Italian.  He  played  superbly ;  a  rich 
strong  personality  coloring  each  phrase. 

When  he  had  finished,  Agatha  went  forward  im- 
pulsively. 

"  Oh,  thank  you !  "  she  said,  with  a  gratitude  so 
sincere  that  the  musician  Hushed  with  pleasure. 
"  How  wonderfully  you  play  Schumann  !  " 

"I  have  only  recently  taken  up  Schumann,"  he 
said,  "  but  I  feel  a  peculiar  sympathy  with  his  music  ; 
you  know  the  Novelette  ?  " 

"Yes,  but  I  never  before  understood  it;  I  never 
before  heard  its  majesty  and  its  aching  coldness  so 
brought  out.  You  are  indeed  an  artist  I " 


AT  THE  VILLA  D'  ESTE.  121 

"  I  am  a  piano-teacher,"  he  replied,  an  expression  of 
sadness  crossing  his  face,  "  and  that  kills  the  artist." 
Then  looking  up  brightly  he  added,  "  But  you  also 
are  musical,  Signorina  ?  " 

"  I  am  fond  of  music,"  was  the  answer. 

"  The  Signorina  plays  the  violin  beautifully,"  said 
the  Duchess,  who  had  followed  Agatha  to  the 
piano. 

His  expressive  face  grew  wistful,  yet  he  said  noth- 
ing. Agatha  interpreted  his  silence  correctly. 

"  I  will  play  to  you  willingly,"  she  said,  "  if  you 
will  give  me  the  pleasure  of  hearing  you  again." 

In  her  judgment  social  barriers  were  levelled 
by  art. 

The  rich  color  of  the  musician's  face  deepened, 
and  the  eyes  lost  their  habitual  hauteur.  He  was 
surprised  and  touched,  for  aristocratic  Romans,  like 
their  cousins  over  the  broad  earth,  are,  with  rare 
exceptions,  prone  to  exalt  blood  above  brains. 

"  I  shall  hold  myself  at  your  command,  Signorina," 
were  his  words. 

Agatha  thanked  him,  and  at  the  suggestion  of  the 
Duchess  it  was  agreed  that  in  the  evening  they 
should  meet  again  in  the  music-room. 

Thus  it  happened  that  while  Mr.  Peter  Dow  was 
drinking  his  after-dinner  coffee  upon  the  terrace  he 
heard  the  piano,  and  peering  in  at  the  open  window 
discovered  the  perplexing  English  girl  sitting  near 
the  Italian  music-teacher,  while  the  other  members 
of  her  party  were  gathered  around  the  instrument. 
Presently  he  saw  her  take  a  violin,  and  begin  to 
play. 


122  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  It 's  as  plain  as  the  writing  on  the  wall,"  he  mut- 
tered. '"Governess,  either  resident  or  daily,  compe- 
tent to  teach  Latin,  Greek,  Hindu,  or  Zulu,  French, 
German,  mathematics,  and  needlework.  Special  at- 
tention given  to  deportment  and  music.  A  good 
home  more  desired  than  a  large  salary;  willing  to 
go  abroad.'  Lord  bless  my  soul !  you  read  of  a 
dozen  just  like  her  in  every  copy  of  the  London 
'  Times.'  And  now  she  has  found  a  congenial  spirit. 
It 's  ten  to  three  she 's  not  friend  but  governess, 
and  I  think  I  '11  risk  their  acquaintance." 

Thereupon  he  went  into-  the  room  and  seated  him- 
self near  the  General,  with  whom  presently  he  started 
a  conversation.  Mr.  Dow,  while  eccentric,  was  rather 
nimble  of  wit,  and  possessing  also  an  amiable  per- 
sonality succeeded  in  making  a  good  impression 
upon  his  companion.  Conscious  of  this,  he  reflected 
with  satisfaction  that  he  held  in  reserve  an  effective 
characteristic ;  namely,  the  knack  of  embc41ishing  his 
social  intercourse  with  apt  poetic  quotation.  Gifted 
with  an  excellent  memory,  and  ambitious  to  take 
the  taste  of  trade  out  of  his  mouth ;  desirous,  more- 
over, of  affecting  a  habit  of  mind  which  was  the 
farthest  possible  remove  from  that  which  the  Eu- 
ropean world  ascribes  to  the  practical  American ; 
touched,  perhaps,  by  the  knowledge  that  culture  is 
commonly  associated  with  the  city  of  his  birth,  he 
permitted  himself  much  license  in  the  reading  of 
poetry,  and  was  sometimes  fearful  that  his  propensity 
to  quote  apt  titbits  was  really  becoming  a  habit. 

When  the  music  was  over,  the  two  gentlemen 
strolled  into  the  air  together.  Presently  the  Duke 


AT   THE    VILLA   D'  ESTE.  123 

joined  them,  and  ere  the  group  parted,  Mr.  Dow  felt 
that  he  had  laid  a  firm  foundation  for  a  friendship 
which  should  prove  serviceable  to  him.  The  conver- 
sation had  not  been  personal,  and  therefore  he  had 
discovered  nothing  concerning  Miss  Page's  position, 
but  he  hoped  for  more  light  on  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER  X. 

LUITELLO. 

THE  moonbeams  lay  lightly  on  Lake  Como  ;  the 
air  was  sweet,  the  sky  unclouded,  and  the  distant 
glimmer  of  lights  upon  the  mountains  opposite  Cer- 
nobbio  seemed  a  reflection  of  the  glowing  planets. 
The  calm  silence  was  broken  only  by  the  swash  of 
the  gentle  waves,  the  occasional  sound  of  an  oar,  or 
the  mellow  exclamation  of  a  nightingale. 

Upon  the  terrace  overhanging  the  lake,  a  short 
distance  from  the  hotel,  sat  the  Faviolas,  the  Count 
Ricci  and  Agatha,  Signor  Veltri  the  young  musician, 
and  Mr.  Peter  Dow.  They  had  sauntered  here  to 
enjoy  the  night,  and  for  many  minutes  no  one  luul 
spoken. 

Agatha  was  seated  upon  a  low  vine-covered  wall, 
watching  the  waves  as  they  touched  its  base,  and 
wondering  why  she  should  feel  depressed  upon  such 
a  night.  The  scene  should  be  restful  and  calming. 
Yet  she  felt  the  quick  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  turned 
her  face  farther  away  from  the  moonlight  lest  her 
mood  should  be  betrayed  to  her  uncle,  who  was 
standing  near  her.  The  others  were  resting  upon 
two  long  benches  set  back  a  little  from  the  wall,  and 
while  they  missed  the  full  path  of  the  moonlight  upon 


LU1TELLO.  125 

the  water,  they  were  recompensed  by  the  greater 
comfort. 

"  What  a  night  for  music ! "  said  Signer  Veltri  in 
a  low  voice. 

"  Perfect,"  answered  the  Duchess  ;  and  turning  to 
her  husband,  she  added,  "Shall  I  send  Gaeta  for 
Agatha's  violin?  She  might  feel  like  playing  if  it 
were  placed  in  her  hands." 

"  It  would  be  charming ;  I  will  go  with  Gaeta ; " 
and  he  walked  away  with  his  child. 

"  A  night  like  this  makes  a  man  of  my  age  thought- 
ful," said  the  Count  Ricci. 

"  It  makes  any  one  thoughtful,"  Agatha  replied. 

"But  I  mean  something  more  ;  its  quiet  suggests 
the  future." 

"  Its  peace  seems  to  me  quite  as  marked  as  its  quiet." 

"  Did  you  ever  think,  my  dear,  what  different  trains 
of  thought  such  a  scene  suggests  to  one  like  you  and 
to  an  old  man  like  me  ?  We  both  look  into  that  streak 
of  moonlight  yonder,  and  wonder  about  the  future ; 
but  your  question  is  who  ?  mine  —  whither  ?  " 

"The  answer  to  both  depends  upon  the  Divine 
sympathy." 

He  pulled  at  his  cigar  in  silence  for  several  mo- 
ments. "That  is  true,"  he  said,  —  "that  is  true;  but 
what  lies  beyond  ?  We  look  into  the  sky,  and  power- 
less as  we  are  to  change  the  course  of  a  star,  still  we 
can  follow  it.  We  look  at  the  earth,  and  while  unable 
to  unravel  its  mysteries,  we  expect  confidently  the 
return  of  the  grass  and  the  flowers  ;  yet  my  fellow- 
man  disappears  and  the  mystery  is  complete,  neither 


126  AGATHA   PAGE. 

his  body  nor  his  soul  is  ever  known  to  me  again. 
What  is  there  beyond  ?  Some  persons  guess  and 
some  assert,  but  no  one  proves  anything." 

"  The  very  fact  that  puzzles  you,  I  think,  proves 
something.  It  proves  that  your  fellow-man  goes  on- 
ward instead  of  following  a  circle  ;  and  as  life  comes 
from  the  sun,  I  love  to  think  that  in  other  worlds 
nearer  the  sun,  where  the  conditions  for  growth  are 
more  powerful,  germs  of  good  within  our  souls  will 
be  unfolded  that  will  make  us  more  acceptable  in  the 
sight  of  God." 

"Your  theory  has  at  least  the  merit  of  hope- 
giving,"  the  Count  remarked.  "  But  you  believe  in 
future  punishment  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  for  Christ  declared  it ;  but  I  go  no 
further :  I  simply  have  confidence  that  it  will  be  with 
a  wise  purpose,  and  therefore  not  malignant  or  eter- 
nal. I  believe  it  will  be  through  repentance,  as  the 
development  of  the  good  in  us  increases  our  abhor- 
rence of  that  which  has  been  and  is  evil  in  us.  Yet 
to  whatever  spot  in  God's  universe  He  calls  our  freed 
souls,  be  sure,  dear  uncle,  it  is  nearer  the  source  of 
all  that  is  most  beautiful  in  Nature  and  in  man.  He 
calls  us  to  Himself,  and  will  punish  us  for  past  dis- 
obedience, as  He  has  foretold ;  but  He  does  not  call 
us  to  feed  an  unholy  desire  for  revenge,  or  to  rejoice 
the  heart  of  Satan.  I  cannot  believe  it  of  him  who 
said,  '  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  will  draw 
all  men  unto  me.'  " 

"  Miss  Agatha,"  said  Gaeta,  placing  the  violin-case 
in  her  hands,  "  won't  you  play  to  us  ?  " 


LUITELLO.  127 

"  Willingly,"  she  replied ;  and  taking  the  instru- 
ment she  presently  began  the  gentle  strains  of 
Mignon's  song,  "  Knowest  thou  the  Land  ?  " 

As  she  finished  playing  and  stood  looking  far  off 
into  the  lake,  the  moonlight  falling  upon  her  face  and 
white  dress,  no  one  spoke,  and  after  a  brief  pause  she 
raised  her  violin  to  its  place  and  began  the  sweet 
strain  of  "  Du  bist  die  Ruh'."  A  boat  glided  into  the 
track  of  the  moon  and  she  saw  the  oarsman  held  mo- 
tionless by  the  spell  of  her  bow.  Endowing  him  for 
the  moment  with  another's  personality,  she  played 
to  him,  and  to  him  alone.  As  she  finished  the  last 
strain  he  dipped  his  oars  softly  and  passed  into  the 
shadow.  Her  imagination  was  stirred ;  the  conceit 
pleased  her  mood,  and  as  if  to  follow  him  into  the 
shadow  and  arrest  his  course,  she  turned  slightly 
toward  him  and  began  the  song  by  Mendelssohn 
that  Loreno  had  translated  for  her.  She  played 
the  first  verse  with  growing  fervor,  repeating  the 
words  mentally,  and  after  a  moment's  pause  began 
the  second  verse,  when,  to  her  amazement,  the  rich 
tones  of  a  man's  voice  rose  like  a  bell  from  the  deep 
shadow  below  her.  He  was  singing  the  melody  with 
the  German  words,  and  her  heart  gave  a  mighty 
bound.  When  the  verse  was  finished  and  the  sing- 
ing ceased,  Agatha  repeated  the  short  song  from 
beginning  to  end,  with  a  tenderness  that  electrified 
every  listener. 

In  the  moment  of  silence  that  followed,  she  heard 
the  sound  of  retreating  oars.  The  others  had  left 
their  places  at  the  sound  of  the  stranger's  voice,  and 
gathered  about  her. 


128  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  He  sang  it  beautifully,  but  you  played  it  marvel- 
lously !  "  exclaimed  Signer  Veltri. 

"  I  wonder  who  he  is  ?  "  said  Mr.  Dow.  "  Did  you 
notice  that  he  sang  in  German  ?  " 

Agatha  turned  away,  and  the  Duchess  felt  that  she 
must  rush  to  the  rescue. 

"  Luitello,  of  course,"  she  answered  confidently. 

" '  Luitello  ' ! "  said  the  General,  anxiously,  "  who 
is  he  ?  " 

The  Duchess  laughed. 

"  Don't  you  remember  who  Luitello  was  ? "  and 
she  thought  rapidly  as  she  asked,  "  who  will  enlighten 
the  Count  ?  Can  you,  Mr.  Dow  ?  " 

"It  sounds  like  a  name  I've  heard  somewhere," 
he  rejoined. 

She  again  laughed  quietly,  but  remained  silent  for 
a  moment. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  must  tell  his  story  myself,"  she  said  ; 
"  but  first  come  back-  to  our  bench." 

They  settled  themselves  comfortably,  and  the 
Duchess  began  :  — 

"  Many  years  ago — or,  to  be  exact,  the  year  Apollo 
was  born  —  the  beautiful  Queen  of  the  Nymphs  in- 
habiting the  Brianza  from  the  shores  of  Lecco  to 
Como,  was  carried  to  Delos  by  command  of  Juno, 
to  excite  the  jealousy  of  the  vain  Themis,  who  had 
incurred  her  displeasure. 

"  The  nymphs  were  unable  to  agree  who  should  be 
their  new  queen,  and  hearing  that  Neptune  was  at 
Olympus  attending  an  assembly  of  the  gods,  they 
decided  to  ask  him  to  come  and  choose  the  most 
beautiful  among  them,  that  she  might  be  their  sov- 


LUITELLO.  129 

ereign.  About  that  time  a  strange  nymph  came 
from  the  north  to  make  her  home  with  an  old  aunt 
who  lived  near  the  shore  of  Como.  The  rare  beauty 
of  the  little  stranger  was  undeniable,  and  it  was 
equalled  by  the  loveliness  of  her  spirit.  One  day 
the  news  spread  like  wildfire  that  Neptune,  who 
could  not  come  personally  in  answer  to  their  mes- 
sage, had  sent  a  young  Triton  to  represent  him.  His 
name  was  Luitello  ;  and  when  he  arrived  he  proved 
to  be  not  only  well-born  but  handsome.  He  was  not 
indifferent  to  the  sensation  he  created,  and  slyly  post- 
poned naming  his  choice,  on  the  plea  that  where  so 
many  were  beautiful  he  found  the  task  difficult. 
But  he  had  not  yet  seen  the  new-comer,  who  per- 
formed her  regular  duties  —  such  as  changing  the 
moss  of  her  aunt's  bed,  preserving  strawberries, 
gathering  a  stock  of  fig-leaves  against  the  coming 
winter  — without  giving  a  thought  to  the  dashing 
visitor. 

Toward  evening,  when  her  work  was  done,  she 
enjoyed  going  to  the  top  of  one  of  the  neighbor- 
ing hills  to  see  the  sunset,  after  which  she  would 
saunter  home  singing  her  Northern  songs,  until  grad- 
ually the  other  nymphs  learned  to  listen  for  the  soft 
tones  with  which  she  accompanied  her  steps.  At  last 
there  came  an  evening  when  she  was  later  than  usual, 
and  the  moonbeams  were  shimmering  upon  the  lake 
before  they  heard  her  voice.  As  she  reached  the 
water  near  where  they  were  gathered,  she  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  delight  and  stood  fascinated  by  the 
scene.  Then  her  voice  gently  floated  to  them,  and 
for  the  first  time  they  detected  something  wistful  in 

9 


130  AGATHA   PAGE. 

its  quality.  As  they  listened  breathlessly,  a  form 
floated  across  the  moonlight,  and  they  saw  Luitello, 
absorbed  by  the  music.  Every  faculty  seemed  in- 
tent upon  receiving  the  full  measure  of  the  golden 
notes,  and  each  muscle  seemed  strained  to  carry  him 
nearer  the  singer.  Presently  he  dived,  and  rising 
just  below  the  unconscious  nymph,  their  eyes  met. 
Then  a  spirit,  exquisite  and  pure,  appeared,  and  glid- 
ing over  the  water  warned  him  not  to  go  nearer  the 
nymph  lest  she  discover  the  unworthiness  of  which  he 
was  suddenly  made  conscious,  and  with  a  tremulous 
sigh  he  turned  away  and  disappeared  into  the  shadow. 
"  The  poor  nymph  awoke  from  her  short  dream  con- 
founded. Her  eyes,  mercifully  dazzled  by  the  light 
of  the  spirit,  had  seen  nothing  of  Luitello's  defects. 
She  only  knew  that  he  had  come  —  that  he  was 
gone  ;  and  her  heart  cried  out  with  pain.  Then 
her  companions  with  sweet  sympathy  told  her  that 
the  spirit  she  had  seen  was  Love,  and  that  it  would 
again  lead  Luitello  to  her :  so  each  night  she  waited 
faithfully  by  the  lake  until  he  should  come.  At  last 
in  the  path  of  the  moon-light  she  saw  him  approach- 
ing, led  by  the  spirit  Love.  Now  he  was  deemed 
worthy.  Then  the  gods,  who  had  given  the  nymph 
the  spirit  of  a  goddess,  bestowed  upon  her  com- 
mensurate power,  and  her  companions  by  acclama- 
tion named  her  as  their  queen.  In  the  first  exercise 
of  her  new  power,  she  ordained  that  whenever  a 
worthy  maid  should  stray  to  the  lakeside  and  chance 
to  stand  where  she  herself  had  stood,  Love,  the  guar- 
dian spirit  of  the  lake,  should  bring  to  the  maiden's 
feet  another  Luitello." 


LUITELLO.  131 

"Where  is  he,  then?"  asked  Gaeta,  seriously. 
"  Why  did  n't  he  stay  ?  " 

The  Duchess  laughed  quietly,  and  caressing  the 
child,  said,  "I  only  agreed  to  tell  you  what  a  Luitello 
is  ;  not  all  the  whys  and  wherefores  that  mere  mortals 
are  not  privileged  to  understand." 

"'In  truth  he  was  a  strange  and  wayward  wight,'  " 
quoth  Mr.  Dow. 

The  Duchess  saw  that  Agatha  was  still  dreaming, 
and  made  a  final  effort  to  cover  her  preoccupation. 

"  I  must  go  back  to  the  hotel,"  she  said,  rising 
suddenly.  "  I  have  a  letter  to  write,  and  besides, 
Agatha,  I  think  it's  a  little  damp  here." 

The  young  girl  started  slightly  and  turned.  She 
had  heard  the  words,  but  not  consciously,  and  it  took 
her  a  moment  to  apply  them.  She  instantly  thought 
of  her  uncle,  and  on  his  account  was  solicitous. 

"  I  '11  go  with  you,"  she  said  ;  "  I  should  n't  care 
to  run  any  risk." 

As  Peter  Dow  walked  home  by  the  Duke  he  emu- 
lated his  companion's  silence.  His  mind  was  pre- 
occupied. Could  his  theory,  after  all,  be  incorrect? 
He  was  almost  certain  that  he  had  heard  Miss  Page 
speak  of  the  General  as  her  uncle. 

The  following  morning  Mr.  Dow  sat  under  the 
shade  of  a  large  tree  within  sight  of  the  hotel,  reading 
a  newspaper.  Hearing  a  step,  he  turned  and  saw 
Gaeta  approaching.  As  the  child  reached  him  he 
looked  up  and  greeted  her  pleasantly. 

"  Have  you  seen  Mamma  and  Miss  Page  ?  "  Gaeta 
asked. 


132  AGATHA    PAGE. 

"  No ;  are  they  out  of  doors  so  early  ?  " 

"  They  've  been  out  here  somewhere  for  an  hour. 
Perhaps  they  are  in  the  grove;  I  '11  go  and  see,"  and 
she  moved  onward. 

"How  is  your  mamma  this  morning?"  he  asked 
quickly. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  thank  you." 

"And  Miss  Page  —  could  she  sleep  after  her  ad- 
venture ?  " 

"  Was  n't  it  lovely  ?  "  exclaimed  the  child. 

"  Yes,  indeed  ;  "  and  then  he  added,  at  a  venture, 
"  he  was  probably  some  friend  of  hers." 

This  seemed  a  new  idea  to  Gaeta,  and  presently 
a  wise  look  came  into  her  eyes :  she  smiled  and 
nodded  confidently.  "  I  know  now  who  it  was,  — 
I  'm  sure  I  know  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Do  you  ?     Oh,  I  think  not." 

"  I  'm  sure  of  it." 

"•  Then  some  one  has  told  you." 

"  No  one.     It  just  came  to  me  this  minute." 

"  Oh,  then  you're  probably  all  wrong." 

"  I  '11  tell  you,"  said  the  child,  "  and  you  see  if  he 
doesn't  come  before  night.  It  was  Uncle  Filippo; 
for  now  I  recognize  his  voice." 

"  Oh,  it  was  your  uncle,  was  it  ?  What  is  his  name  ?" 

"  The  Marquis  Loreno." 

"  And  he  met  Miss  Page  at  your  villa,  of  course?" 
he  said,  feeling  that  now  he  should  place  her. 

"  He  met  her  at  our  house  first ;  but  he  called 
upon  her  afterward." 

"  Oh,  that  was  the  way !  He  called  upon  her  while 
she  was  at  — "  and  he  stopped. 


LUITELLO.  133 

" At  home;  at  Erba." 

"  Then  Miss  Page  has  n't  a  home  of  her  own  ?  "  he 
continued. 

"  Why,  of  course  not,"  and  the  child  looked  in- 
credulously at  her  questioner.  "  She  is  n't  married." 

"  So  she  lives  with  you  ?  " 

"Oh  no,  she  does  n't ;  how  did  you  get  that  idea?" 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know  ; "  and  Mr.  Dow  sank 
back,  fairly  discouraged.  Then  he  added  bluntly, 
"  where  does  Miss  Page  live  ?  " 

"  In  Rome." 

"  And  at  Erba  she  visits  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly;  we  are  awfully  fond  of  her." 

His  curiosity  was  fast  getting  the  better  of  his  dis- 
cretion. "  Then  she  's  only  your  mother's  friend  ?  " 
he  said. 

"  Why,  no,  Papa  likes  her  too." 

"  Of  course  he  does  ;  I  mean  that  she  's  —  that  is, 
that  Miss  Page  is  not  —  "  the  nakedness  of  the  words 
that  sprang  to  his  mind  embarrassed  him. 

"  There  !  "  and  Gaeta  clapped  her  hands  as  she 
looked  toward  the  hotel.  "  I  knew  I  was  right ; 
there  's  Uncle  Filippo  looking  everywhere  for  us." 
And  she  ran  toward  him. 

He  saw  her  coming,  and  raising  his  hand  waved  his 
ringers  rapidly,  —  the  universal  token  of  greeting 
among  Italians.  "How  do  you  do,  little  girl?"  he 
called  in  his  full  rich  voice. 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Filippo,  how  welcome  you  are  ! "  Mr. 
Dow  heard  her  exclaim. 

Then  the  interested  observer  saw  him  bend  down 
and  kiss  the  child,  and  without  waiting  to  see  more 


134  AGATHA   PAGE. 

walked  toward  the  grove  to  search  for  the  Duchess. 
"  There  it  is  again,"  he  thought ;  "  I  sat  still  and  got 
there !  " 

A  moment  later  Gaeta  and  the  stranger  followed, 
hand  in  hand. 

"  How  is  everybody?"  he  asked. 

"  Very  well." 

"  Miss  Page  is  with  you,  I  hear." 

"  Yes  ;  is  n't  she  lovely !     I  just  adore  her." 

"  Do  you  ?  "  and  he  patted  her  head. 

They  turned  into  the  grove  and  saw  the  Duchess 
and  Agatha  seated  upon  a  rustic  bench,  talking  with 
a  gentleman  who  stood  before  them. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  asked  Loreno. 

"  A  Mr.  Dow  ;  we  don't  know  him  very  well," 
she  said  judicially. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  adore  him  —  at  least  not  for 
his  beauty,"  he  whispered. 

After  a  quick  girlish  laugh  she  called  aloud,  — 
"  Mamma,  Mamma  !  see  here  !  " 

The  Duchess  turned,  looked  at  Loreno  an  instant, 
and  then  hurried  to  meet  him. 

u  This  is  a  pleasant  surprise,"  she  exclaimed,  kissing 
him  affectionately.  "  When  did  you  arrive  ?  " 

"  Last  evening  at  Como ;  at  Cernobbio,  only  a 
moment  ago." 

Agatha,  who  had  not  gone  forward,  felt  an  unac- 
countable impulse  to  run  away,  but  compromised  by 
remaining  where  she  was. 

As  he  advanced  toward  her  his  eyes  noted  the 
effect  of  her  soft  white  dress  with  a  bunch  of  red 
roses  at  the  belt.  She  was  very  pale,  but  when  she 


LUITELLO.  135 

touched  Filippo's  hand  her  cheeks  took  again  the 
delicate  color  that  belonged  to  them. 

The  Duchess  presented  her  brother  to  Mr.  Dow. 

"  I  did  n't  go  ashore  last  night,"  Loreno  began  ; 
"  there  seemed  to  be  such  a  large  party." 

The  eyes  of  his  sister  twinkled  at  this  characteris- 
tic directness,  and  she  wondered  how  Agatha  would 
meet  it. 

"  I  've  heard  before,"  was  Agatha's  reply,  "  that 
the  moonlight  exaggerates.  There  were  only  two 
others  besides  ourselves." 

"  Indeed  !  I  thought  there  were  more." 

"  So  you  were  the  mysterious  minstrel !  "  said  the 
Duchess. 

"  Certainly  !     There  was  no  mystery  intended." 

"  Then  I  must  say  you  were  not  very  brotherly." 

"  My  habitual  modesty  ;  "  and  he  bowed  suavely. 

"  It  must  be  your  latest  Parisian  acquirement. 
How  did  you  know  we  were  here  ? " 

"  Padre  Sacconi  told  me  ;  and  I  've  a  pleasant  sur- 
prise for  you,  —  he  will  be  here  this  evening.  I  've 
persuaded  him  to  go  to  Varese  with  me  for  a  little 
visit.  —  Padre  Sacconi  is  our  confessor,"  he  explained 
to  Mr.  Dow  ;  "  at  least,  he  is  mine." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  replied  that  gentleman.  "Well, 
I  suppose  confession  is  a  matter  of  habit." 

"  More  or  less,"  Loreno  replied. 

"  Where  are  you  staying? "  asked  the  Duchess. 

"At  Como.  I  had  my  luggage  sent  there  from 
Paris  before  I  knew  you  were  here." 

"  We  leave  to-morrow  morning  for  Varese ;  of 
course  you  '11  go  with  us." 


136  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  I  hoped  that  you  would  stop  at  Varese  ! "  he 
responded,  evasively.  "Naturally  you  are  going  to 
the  villa?" 

The  Duchess  laughed.  "  I  took  the  liberty  of 
playing  hostess,"  she  said,  "•  and  sent  word  to  have  the 
house  ready  for  us.  Am  I  not  a  thoughtful  sister  ?" 

He  put  his  arm  about  her  and  looked  fondly  into 
her  merry  eyes. 

"  Where  are  the  two  commanders  ? "  he  asked  ; 
"I  wish  to  pay  my  respects  to  them." 

"  The  General  was  in  the  reading-room  when  I 
passed  it,"  said  Mr.  Dow.  "  Shall  I  show  you  where 
it  is  ?  " 

Presently  the  two  gentlemen  sauntered  away  to- 
gether. 

"  You  are  an  old  friend  of  Miss  Page's,"  sug- 
gested Mr.  Dow. 

"  No  ;  I  only  recently  met  her  while  I  was  visiting 
at  my  brother-in-law's  villa." 

"  She  lives  with  the  Duke  Faviola,  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  dear,  no ;  she  lives  with  her  uncle,  the 
Count  Ricci." 

"Her  uncle  —  oh,  indeed!  I  have  only  had  the 
honor  of  knowing  her  since  she  came  here." 

"  She  is  looking  a  little  tired." 

"  Is  she  ?     Naturally,  I  'm  not  able  to  judge." 

"  Delightful  old  man  —  the  General !  "  exclaimed 
Loreno,  warmly. 

"  Delightful ! " 

"  One  of  your  prompt,  frank  sort,  and  devoted  to 
his  niece." 

"  Yes,  indeed.     He  lives  at  Erba,  I  believe." 


LUITELLO.  137 

"  He  has  a  summer  villa  there,  but  in  the  winter 
they  go  to  Rome." 

"  Oh,  do  they  ?  "  and  Mr.  Dow  opened  his  eyes  as 
well  as  his  ears. 

"  You  don't  know  many  Romans,  of  course,  —  you 
are  an  American." 

"  I  live  in  Rome  now,"  Mr.  Dow  hastened  to  say, 
"  but  I  was  born  in  Boston." 

"  Boston  ;  that 's  in  America,  is  n't  it?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  Boston  !  " 

"  I  've  heard  of  it,"  Loreno  continued.  "  They 
are  talking  of  building  a  bridge  from  New  York  to 
Boston." 

An  expression  of  pain  passed  over  Mr.  Dow's  face. 

"No  —  that's  a  place  called  Brooklyn,"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Ah !  you  see  I  'm  not  very  clear  in  my  American 
geography.  But  I  intend  to  learn  all  about  America ; 
I  'm  very  much  interested  in  Americans." 

Mr.  Dow  was  placated.  "It's  a  great  country," 
he  said,  "  although  at  present  I  prefer  Italy  for  my 
residence." 

"  How  strange  !  I  cannot  see  how  any  one  can  pre- 
fer another  country  to  his  own.  I  was  never  more  de- 
lighted than  when  I  got  back  to  Italy  yesterday." 

"That's  just  it.  Your  home  is  in  Italy.  If  it 
were  not,  you  would  feel  as  I  do." 

"I'm  glad  to  know  that  you  like  my  country  so 
much,"  said  Loreno,  courteously  ;  "  and  now  tell  me, 
please,  in  which  of  these  rooms  was  it  that  you  saw 
the  General  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XI. 

COMMUNICATIONS. 

"Wno  else  was  with  you  last  evening?"  Filippo 
asked  Agatha,  by  whose  side  he  sat  at  luncheon. 

**  A  young  Calabrian  named  Veltri ;  he  sits  on 
the  other  side  of  the  table  near  the  top.  He  is 
charming.  Here  he  comes." 

Filippo  looked  up  and  regarded  the  youth  steadily. 

"  He  has  an  interesting  face,"  he  remarked.  "  He 
would  be  flattered  if  he  knew  the  impression  he  has 
created." 

"  I  don't  believe  so,"  she  answered.  "  He  does  n't 
seem  to  be  a  vain  young  man." 

The  quaintness  of  her  words  amused  and  also 
charmed  him.  When  a  man  listens  to  his  "  ladye 
love,"  his  critical  faculty  is  apt  to  be  tempered 
"  wyth  alle  good  desyres." 

"  He  seems  rather  solemn  for  one  of  his  years,"  he 
remarked. 

"He  is  down-hearted,  poor  fellow  I "  and  she  re- 
garded Veltri  with  sympathy. 

Glancing  toward  her  his  eyes  met  hers,  and  as 
he  returned  her  bow  he  flushed  and  looked  away 
quickly. 

"  Perhaps  it 's  a  case  of  the  little  tin  soldier  who 
saw  and  loved  the  queen,"  Loreno  suggested. 


COM M  UNICA  TIONS.  139 

"  Perhaps  it  is,"  she  replied  unconsciously ;  "  but 
I  think  his  heart  is  filled  with  a  passion  for  music." 
And  then  she  told  of  his  wonderful  playing,  and  how 
sad  his  face  had  grown  as  he  remarked  that  teaching 
killed  the  artist. 

After  luncheon  Mr.  Dow  joined  his  new  friends, 
who  were  gathered  about  a  table  on  the  terrace  sip- 
ping their  black  coffee,  and  he  actually  accepted  a 
cigarette,  explaining  that  while  he  avoided  the  habit 
of  smoking,  he  should  make  this  occasion  an  excep- 
tion in  honor  of  the  Marquis's  arrival. 

"  By  the  bye,  Marchese,"  exclaimed  the  General, 
"  of  course  Padre  Sacconi  and  you  will  go  with  us 
to-morrow  on  the  coach." 

"  It  would  be  charming,"  Loreno  answered,  "  and 
I  'm  sure  Padre  Sacconi  will  infinitely  prefer  the  plan 
to  a  quiet  drive  with  me  ;  but  I  expect  my  dog-cart 
to-night." 

"  Is  it  too  late  to  telegraph  and  stop  it  ?  "  asked 
the  General. 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  it  must  simply  go  back  without  you,"  the 
Duchess  announced  calmly  ;  "  you  must  come  on  the 
coach." 

Filippo  hesitated  ;  he  had  hoped  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity during  the  day  of  ending  a  suspense  which  he 
could  scarcely  endure.  Yet  the  more  he  realized 
what  he  would  ask  of  Agatha,  the  more  he  feared 
that  a  bitter  disappointment  was  before  him.  If 
such  were  the  outcome  of  their  interview,  he  knew 
that  the  long  drive  proposed,  would  be  most  trying 
to  her  as  well  as  to  him.  In  short,  should  he  accept 


140  AGATHA   PAGE. 

the  invitation  of  the  Duke,  he  must  sacrifice  his  ar- 
dent, almost  irresistible  longing,  and  postpone  his 
declaration  until  they  had  reached  Varese.  But  sud- 
denly a  new  thought  came  to  him  with  overwhelming 
force,  and  he  was  amazed  that  even  the  unexpected 
delight  of  having  Agatha  as  a  guest  should  have 
made  him  oblivious  to  the  penalty  of  her  visit.  Yet 
now  he  saw  clearly  that  he  ought  not  to  tell  her 
of  his  love  while  she  was  his  guest. 

His  sister  watched  his  apparent  irresolution  with 
perplexity,  and  before  he  had  time  to  reply,  turned 
appealingly  to  Agatha. 

"  Can  no  one  induce  this  spoiled  young  man  to 
relent  ?  Did  ever  one  hear  of  anything  so  pre- 
posterous ?  Perhaps  this  is  some  more  of  his  French 
modesty,  or  possibly  he  wishes  us  to  go  down  on  our 
knees  to  him." 

*'  I  accept,  General,  with  many  thanks,"  Loreno 
said. 

The  Duchess  smiled  happily  and  turned  to  Mr. 
Dow. 

"It  is  a  pity  you  are  not  also  going  to  Varese," 
she  said  politely;  "perhaps  you  would  have  joined 
our  party." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  may  see  you 
there.  I  intend  to  stop  at  Varese,  and  will  do  myself 
the  honor  to  call." 

"  Pray  don't  forget,  and  I  hope  we  shall  still  be 
there." 

"We  shall  look  for  you,"  Loreno  added  courteously. 

Signer  Veltri  now  approached  the  group,  and 
Agatha  rose  to  meet  him. 


COMMUNICATIONS.  141 

"Are  you  ready?"  she  asked. 

"  At  your  service,  Signorina." 

"  Are  you  going  to  have  some  music  ?  "  asked  the 
General. 

"  Yes ;  we  had  arranged  to  try  over  some  duets 
for  piano  and  violin." 

"  Do  you  object  to  an  audience  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all ;  any  one  will  be  welcome  who  cares 
to  listen." 

"  Then  I  am  one,"  said  Loreno.  "  Will  you  please 
present  me  to  Signer  Veltri  ? " 

The  young  Calabrian  lifted  his  hat,  but  Loreno, 
going  forward,  offered  his  hand.  "  Do  you  also  con- 
sent to  our  joining  you?  "  he  asked. 

"  With  pleasure." 

So  the  entire  party  adjourned  to  the  salon  and 
listened  for  an  hour  to  the  playing  of  the  pianist 
and  Agatha. 

AYhen  they  went  out  of  doors  again,  leaving  the 
young  musician  to  his  practising,  Loreno  surprised 
them  by  saying,  — 

"  I  've  a  little  scheme  about  which  I  should  like 
to  consult  Miss  Page ; "  and  turning  to  Agatha  he 
added,  "  Would  you  mind  going  with  me  as  far  as 
the  lodge?" 

"  Certainly  not ; "  but  her  face  showed  surprise. 

"  Don't  be  gone  long,"  called  his  sister,  as  they 
walked  away  together;  "  we  are  going  for  a  row." 

"  I  have  something  of  importance  to  tell  you,"  he 
began,  after  they  had  walked  a  few  yards  in  silence  ; 
"  but  it 's  true  that  I  have  a  little  scheme  in  mind 
about  which  I  wish  to  consult  with  you.  I  've  taken 


142  AGATHA   PAGE. 

a  fancy  to  that  young  pianist,  and  I  propose  to  ask 
him  to  come  to  the  villa  while  you  are  there,  if 
agreeable  to  you." 

She  flushed  with  pleasure.  "  You  are  doing  this  to 
please  me,"  she  said. 

"  And  myself  also." 

"  I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  him  there,  so  far  as 
I  am  concerned,  but  I  really  know  nothing  about  him 
except  what  I  've  told  you." 

"  I  had  a  little  talk  with  him  in  the  salon,"  Loreno 
answered,  "  and  he  told  me  that  he  came  here  to 
play  to  Rubinstein,  who  was  expected  at  the  villa  of 
Baron  von  Feugel.  But  Rubinstein  has  postponed 
his  visit  for  a  week,  and  so  young  Veltri  is  waiting 
for  him.  He  really  interests  me  very  much,  and  I 
should  like  to  know  him  better.  There  is  nothing  to 
keep  him  here,  and  I  hope  that  he  will  come  with  us. 
What  I  have  to  propose  is  that  you  should  ask  your 
uncle  to  offer  him  a  seat  on  the  coach." 

"  It 's  all  rather  extraordinary,  is  n't  it  ?  "  she  said, 
looking  at  him  brightly.  "  Would  n't  it  be  better  to 
consult  the  Duke  and  your  sister?  " 

"  Why  ?     I  'm  master  of  my  own  house." 

"  But  they  may  not  approve." 

"  Have  no  fear  of  that.  Costanza  spoils  me  quite 
as  much  as  your  uncle  spoils  you ;  and  as  for  the  Duke 
—  he  is  n't  the  least  bit  of  a  snob." 

"  Very  well.  And  now  what  is  it  you  have  to  tell 
me,  —  anything  about  my  cousin  ?  "  and  she  searched 
his  face  eagerly. 

"  Yes  ;  I  have  seen  her." 

"You  have?" 


CO  AIM  UN  1C  A  TIONS.  143 

"  I  found  her  in  Paris.  She  is  in  the  studio  of  a 
distinguished  sculptor,  M.  de  Valro." 

Agatha's  face  was  ardent.  "  She  is  studying  sculp- 
ture, then.  Did  she  seem  happy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  because  she  is  encouraged  heartily  by  her 
master,  and  really  shows  great  talent.  I  was  sur- 
prised at  her  work." 

Agatha  laughed  excitedly.  "  How  splendid,  and 
what  a  relief !  "  Then  her  face  grew  grave,  "  May  I 
tell  my  uncle  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  will  explain  how  matters  stand,  and  then  you 
must  judge.  When  I  first  found  her,  she  was  in- 
clined to  resent  my  appearance ;  but  before  we 
parted  she  was  more  reasonable,  and  agreed  that  I 
might  call  again  the  following  day.  From  that  time 
I  saw  her  constantly,  and  we  had  many  a  long  talk. 
She  can't  bear  the  thought  of  living  on  in  the  old 
way,  and  is  determined  to  make  a  new  career  solely 
on  her  merits  as  an  artist.  She  has  even  adopted  a 
new  name, —  she  calls  herself  Madame  Andre,  —  and 
her  hope  is  to  make  this  name  known  and  respected 
through  her  work,  and  to  enjoy  the  fruit  of  her  labor. 
I  must  confess  that  after  hearing  all  the  circum- 
stances, I  understand  her  feeling  and  applaud  her 
intention." 

"What  is  her  feeling  toward  her  father  and 
toward  me  ?  " 

"  Toward  you  most  cordial ;  and  before  I  left  Paris 
her  bitterness  toward  her  father  seemed  to  be  greatly 
softened,  —  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  she  sent  a  mes- 
sage to  you,  in  which  she  is  willing  to  include  her 
father  if  you  think  best." 


144  AGATHA  PAGE. 

"  And  that  is  —  " 

"  That  she  feels  that  her  present  action,  while  wise, 
was  not  kindly  taken.  She  hopes  for  your  considera- 
tion (she  could  not  bring  herself  to  say  forgiveness) 
regarding  her  method  of  taking  up  her  work,  and 
your  sympathy  in  its  result." 

"  That  she  will  always  have,"  exclaimed  the  fer- 
vent girl.  "  And  I  'm  sure  the  Count  will  be  very 
happy  to  hear  of  it  all." 

"  Who  shall  tell  him  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  thought  for  some  minutes.  "  Would  Padre 
Sacconi  not  be  the  best  person  ?  " 

*'  I  think  he  would  be  :  we  will  assign  that  duty  to 
him,  then." 

She  looked  at  her  companion  with  undisguised 
gratitude. 

"  How  can  I  ever  thank  you  for  what  you  have 
done?"  she  said. 

"  The  obligation  is  mine,"  he  replied  ;  "  I  hope  that 
by  the  little  I  have  done,  I  have  proved  the  sincerity 
which  I  bade  you  test." 

She  was  silent  as  they  walked  side  by  side,  each 
heart  surging  wildly. 

"  I  cannot  thank  you, "  she  exclaimed  presently  ; 
"  my  uncle  must  do  so." 

They  had  turned  and  were  approaching  the  rest  of 
the  party. 

His  step  grew  shorter,  and  lagged  slightly. 

"Do  you  realize"  —his  voice  trembled  with  sup- 
pressed feeling,  and  the  eyes  into  which  she  looked 
were  intense  —  "do  you  understand,  Miss  Agatha, 
that  your  happiness  is  of  real  consequence  to  me  ?  " 


COMMUNICATIONS.  145 

"I  really  never  thought  of  it,"  and  she  strove 
bravely  to  meet  his  glance  again  ;  "  but,"  —  and  now 
involuntarily  her  eyes  sought  his  and  her  voice  grew 
firm,  —  "I  believe  you,  and  am  very  grateful." 

He  stopped,  and  she  turned  inquiringly  toward 
him  ;  but  after  a  moment  he  moved  forward  and  the\r 
walked  for  some  time  without  speaking.  Agatha  was 
the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"  How  did  you  like  my  cousin  ?  " 

"  Very  much  indeed.  She  is  a  splendid  compan- 
ion, so  vivacious  and  clever.  We  tramped  all  over 
Paris,  and  examined  every  part  of  the  Exhibition." 

"  You  think  her  beautiful,  do  you  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed." 

"  Did  you  see  little  Francesco  ?  " 

"  Several  times.  He  is  a  fine  little  fellow,  but 
needs  a  less  worshipful  mother." 

"  Is  he  with  her,  or  at  school  ?  " 

"  At  school ;  but  he  passes  every  Saturday  and  Sun- 
day with  his  mother." 

"  I  must  brush  up  my  French,  or  he  '11  laugh  at  me 
when  we  meet,"  she  said  gayly. 

"  Your  cousin  spoke  of  your  French.  She  declares 
that  you  are  one  of  the  few  foreigners  who  speak 
French  like  a  native." 

"  My  dear  cousin  is  partial.  But  did  she  talk  of 
me  much,  —  naturally,  I  mean,  and  affectionately?" 

"  Without  the  least  restraint ;  and  as  for  her  en- 
thusiasm —  "  He  made  an  expressive  gesture. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  so  glad !  " 

Then  she  continued  to  question  him  rapidly  about 
every  detail  concerning  Mercede,  and  he  succeeded 

10 


146  AGATHA   PAGE. 

in  giving  her  quite  a  clear  idea,  not  only  of  Mercede's 
present  feeling,  but  also  of  her  daily  occupation  and 
her  home. 

When  they  reached  the  hotel  they  found  the  party 
seated  near  the  stone  steps  leading  to  the  water.  As 
they  approached,  the  Duchess  looked  up. 

"  Well,  what  mischief  have  you  young  people  been 
plotting?  "  she  said. 

"  Out  with  it,  Signorina,"  exclaimed  Loreno. 

"  The  Marquis  says,  Uncle,  that  he  intends  to  in- 
vite Signer  Veltri  to  go  to  his  villa  at  Varese  while 
we  are  there,  and  I  think  it  would  be  pleasant  to  have 
him  go  on  the  coach." 

The  suggestion  was  met  by  a  chorus  of  laughter. 

"  The  same  old  Filippo !  "  exclaimed  the  Duchess. 
"  He  takes  what  he  wants." 

"  And  the  same  old  Agatha  !  "  added  the  Count ; 
"  nothing  can  curb  her  enthusiasm  for  musicians." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  ?  "  Agatha  asked. 

"  I  will  leave  it  to  the  Duke  and  Duchess,"  the 
Count  replied. 

"  Pardon  we,"  said  Mr.  Dow,  whose  brow  was 
stretched  with  amazement,  "  but  do  you  know  that 
this  young  fellow  is  nothing  but  a  teacher  in 
Rome?" 

"No,  I  was  n't  aware  of  that,"  and  Filippo  looked 
at  the  speaker  soberly.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  he  is 
much  more,  —  that  he  is  an  artist ;  and  as  for  his 
being  a  gentleman,  I  'm  again  willing  to  trust  my 
judgment." 

"  But  he  teaches." 

"  Because  he  is  poor." 


COM  \rUNIC A  T10NS.  147 

"  Then  you  knew  about  it?  " 

"  Of  course  ;  but  why  do  you  ask  ?  Is  teaching 
disgraceful  in  America  ?  " 

"  No,  not  disgraceful ;  but  music-teachers  don't,  as 
a  rule,  hold  what  I  should  call  a  good  social  position." 

"  I  'm  not  proposing  to  offer  this  young  man  a 
social  position,  but  simply  my  individual  hospitality. 
The  first  he  might  scorn ;  the  second  I  trust  he  will 
accept." 

"  Oh,  you  are  quite  right ;  I  merely  thought  you 
might  be  unacquainted  with  the  fact." 

The  Duchess,  who  knew  her  brother's  face  so  well, 
thought  it  time  to  interfere. 

"  Is  n't  all  this  rather  off  the  point  ?  "  she  inquired. 
"  The  question  has  been  left  to  the  Duke  and  me,  of 
inviting  Signer  Veltri  to  go  with  us  to-morrow  in- 
stead of  following  by  train.  If  he  can  arrange  to  go, 
I  should  say  by  all  means  ask  him  to  come  with  us ; 
should  n't  you,  Luigi  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  Duke. 

"  Then  my  part  is  arranged,"  said  Agatha,  turning 
to  Loreno. 

"  And  mine  shall  be  before  night,"  he  replied. 

The  sail  upon  the  lake  was  most  delightful  to 
Loreno,  for  Agatha  was  by  his  side,  her  shoulder  al- 
most touching  his,  and  when  she  turned  and  spoke  to 
him  he  could  look  deep  into  the  clear  eyes  he  thought 
incomparable.  With  the  knowledge  that  he  would 
soon  ask  this  girl  to  be  his  wife,  to  give  him  always  the 
place  by  her  side,  came  the  realization  that  these  hours 
might  be  the  last  during  which  he  could  treasure  such 
a  hope,  or  look  into  those  eyes  without  despair. 


148  AGATHA   PAGE. 

As  the  boat  returned  to  the  quay,  music  floated 
over  the  water  and  roused  Loreno  from  his  dream. 
Could  they  have  sailed  for  an  hour  already  ?  He 
glanced  toward  the  landing-place  and  his  heart  was 
heavy.  His  spirit  yearned  for  rest;  he  chafed  at 
delay,  even  though  it  deferred  disappointment.  His 
nature  scorned  the  solace  of  ignorance  and  impelled 
him  to  grasp  the  truth.  The  boat  rocked  with  the 
wave  of  a  passing  steamer,  and  Agatha's  hand  fell 
upon  his ;  he  caught  a  deep  breath  and  his  face  paled. 

"  Why,  Filippo,  I  believe  you  were  actually  fright- 
ened !  "  and  the  Duchess  laughed. 

"  I  'm  frightened  still  I  "  he  answered  strangely. 

The  ladies  went  to  their  rooms  to  dress  for  dinner, 
leaving  the  gentlemen  together.  The  Duke  soon  ex- 
cused himself,  and  Loreno  proposed  to  the  General 
that  they  should  light  cigars  and  stroll  in  the  park. 
After  they  had  plunged  into  its  seclusion,  Loreno  sud- 
denly brought  the  conversation  around  to  Agatha. 

"Your  niece,  General,  has  great  talent  for  music," 
he  said. 

"  She  really  plays  very  well,  does  she  not  ?  " 

"  Beautifully  !  Nor  is  that  all ;  her  entire  nature 
seems  pervaded  with  music." 

"  My  niece  has  a  lovely  nature." 

In  saying  this  the  Count  was  not  as  naive  as  might 
appear.  He  had  recognized  Loreno's  voice  the  even- 
ing before,  and  now  his  suspicions  were  greatly 
strengthened. 

"  It  would  be  a  painful  thought,  therefore,  to  con- 
sider parting  with  her?  "  continued  the  Marquis. 


COMMUNICA  TIONS.  149 

"  Very  !  very  !  " 

"  Yet,  appreciating  her  as  you  do,  you  must  realize 
that  such  a  sacrifice  is  likely  to  be  asked  of  you." 

"  You  mean  that  she  may  marry  ?  " 

"  Precisely." 

"  She  must  love  first." 

"  Certainly." 

"  Then  I  may  have  a  long  respite,"  and  the  Count 
smiled  gravely. 

Loreno  abandoned  circumlocution  and  dashed  di- 
rectly at  his  point. 

"  We  probably  understand  each  other,  General," 
he  began.  "  You  mean  to  warn  me  that  your  niece 
does  not  care  for  me  ?  " 

Knowing  Agatha's  tone  so  well,  the  Count  had 
detected  something  in  her  playing  the  night  before 
that  he  had  never  heard  until  then.  He  believed 
that  she  loved  this  young  man,  but  it  was  not  for  him 
to  tell  him  so,  and  he  held  his  peace. 

"I  wish,  with  your  permission,  to  find  out  for  my- 
self," Loreno  continued,  "  and  I  respectfully  request 
that  privilege.  You  know  who  I  am,  and  I  need  not 
assure  you  of  my  right  to  take  a  wife,  nor  need  I 
assure  you  that  in  the  event  of  success  in  my  suit,  I 
will  take  your  niece  with  a  full  sense  of  my  responsi- 
bility, and  will  cherish  and  love  her  as  she  deserves." 

They  had  stopped  walking  and  stood  face  to  face. 
As  the  young  man  paused,  the  Count  grasped  his  hand. 

"Marquis,"  he  said,  "I  need  Agatha  myself,  —  I 
really  need  her,  —  but  I  '11  not  stand  in  the  way  of 
her  happiness.  If  you  should  be  fortunate  enough  to 
win  her,  I  shall  yield  her  up  to  you  with  less  sorrow 


150  AGATHA   PAGE. 

than  to  any  other  young  man  of  my  acquaintance. 
But  I  shall  miss  her  beyond  expression." 

Filippo  tightened  his  grip  on  the  other's  hand.  His 
warm  heart  went  out  to  the  brave  old  man, — half 
laughing,  half  sobbing,  as  he  realized  that  he  was 
now  indeed  to  be  left  alone. 

A  few  weeks  before,  he  could  have  looked  Loreno  in 
the  eye  and  hidden  his  feeling  like  any  other  man  ;  but 
now  his  nerve  was  broken  and  he  was  no  longer  him- 
self. He  was  ashamed,  and  bowed  his  head  slightly ; 
and  then  as  a  big  tear  welled  up  from  his  heart  and 
dropped,  without  the  chance  of  denying  it,  upon  Lo- 
reno's  hand,  he  confessed  his  weakness  frankly. 

"  I  realize  now  that  I'm  an  old  man,"  he  said,  — 
"  really  an  old  man,  who  must  ask  some  indulgence 
from  a  young  fellow  like  you.  Pray  don't  despise 
the  weakness  that  I  have  n't  the  power  to  control. 
I  'm  not  my  old  self,  —  I  'm  conscious  of  it ;  but  it 
can't  be  helped,  and  I  want  your  respect." 

Loreno  threw  his  strong  arm  around  his  compan- 
ion's shoulder,  not  familiarly,  but  compassionately. 

"  Do  me  the  justice  to  believe,  sir,"  he  said,  "that 
I  honor  you,  not  only  for  what  you  have  been,  but 
for  what  you  are.  Every  young  man  of  Italy  honors 
General  Ricci,  and  I  honor  doubly  the  tenderness  of 
the  heart  already  distinguished  for  its  courage." 

"  God  bless  you,  Marquis  !  "  and  the  old  soldier 
raised  his  head  proudly ;  "  you  have  come  to  me  as  a 
strong  friend ;  I  shall  not  often  try  your  patience  in 
this  way.  Come,  let  us  go  back ;  the  others  will  be 
waiting  for  us." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

CONFIDENCES. 

ALTHOUGH  Padre  Sacconi  and  Loreno  were  so 
different  in  their  ages  and  pursuits,  there  existed 
between  them  a  sympathy,  the  basis  of  which  was 
their  common  love  for  Agatha ;  but  irrespective  of 
this  feeling  there  was  much  to  draw  them  together. 
The  ardent  nature  of  Filippo  found  rest  in  the  calm 
presence  of  the  white-haired  priest,  while  Padre  Sac- 
coni admired  the  healthy  vigor,  both  of  body  and 
spirit,  possessed  by  the  young  nobleman ;  and  the 
high-minded  character  of  each  found  a  ready  response 
in  the  other. 

On  reaching  Erba  and  hearing  that  his  bird  had 
flown,  Loreno  had  gone  to  the  old  man  for  light.  The 
conversation  which  ensued  convinced  the  priest  that 
an  important  hour  in  the  life  of  Agatha  was  near,  and 
a  longing  possessed  him  to  be  with  her  at  such  a 
time,  perhaps  to  counsel  her,  or,  if  it  might  be,  to 
bless  her. 

As  if  reading  this  longing,  the  young  Marquis  sud- 
denly pressed  upon  the  aged  man  a  cordial  invitation 
to  go  with  him  to  Varese  for  a  few  days,  stopping  on 
the  way  at  Como  to  see  Agatha. 


152  AGATHA  PAGE. 

The  simple  old  priest  seldom  took  a  holiday,  and 
the  responsibility  of  leaving  the  parish  to  take  care 
of  itself,  or  even  of  intrusting  its  manifold  interests 
to  another's  keeping,  filled  him  with  dismay.  But 
under  the  impetuous  urging  of  Loreno,  reinforced  by 
the  desire  to  be  near  Agatha,  he  at  last  agreed  to 
apply  to  his  bishop  for  the  necessary  permission,  and, 
if  possible,  to  join  Loreno  at  Como  on  the  following 
day. 

He  arrived,  therefore,  on  the  evening  of  Loreno's 
interview  with  the  Count,  and  the  following  morn- 
ing accompanied  the  Marquis  to  the  Villa  d'  Este, 
where  they  found  the  coach  already  loaded  for  the 
drive  to  Varese.  Having  sent  up  their  names,  they 
seated  themselves  upon  the  hotel  terrace.  In  a  few 
moments  Agatha  appeared.  She  greeted  her  old 
friend  affectionately,  and  then  gave  her  hand  to 
Loreno. 

"I  have  to  thank  you  for  this  pleasure,"  she  said; 
"  how  shall  I  repay  all  my  obligations  ?  " 

"  A  lady  can  pay  any  debt  with  a  flower,"  and  he 
glanced  at  the  bunch  of  roses  in  her  bodice. 

She  detached  a  bud  and  held  it  out  to  him.  "  *  In 
hand  to  him  paid,' — isn't  that  the  technical  phrase?" 
she  asked  gayly. 

"  Is  this,  then,  payment  in  full?  " 

"  No,  indeed,"  and  she  looked  happily  into  the  face 
of  the  priest ;  "  the  whole  bunch  would  not  begin  to 
pay  this  day's  debt  alone." 

As  she  seated  herself  and  began  to  chat  with 
Padre  Sacconi,  Loreno  watched  her  with  admiration. 
Her  dress  seemed  to  him  exceedingly  pretty,  with 


CONFIDENCES.  153 

its  whiteness,  and  its  crispness,  and  its  graceful  folds, 
while  the  bow  at  the  throat  matching  the  bow  in  the 
coils  of  her  hair  quite  fascinated  his  eye.  Then  the 
simplicity  of  it  all  caused  him  to  wonder  why  other 
girls  did  not  dress  themselves  so  well ;  and  as  his 
glance,  following  the  harmonious  lines  of  the  lithe 
figure,  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  foot  which  even  among 
Italian  women  was  noteworthy,  he  closed  his  eyes  for 
an  instant,  as  though  to  imprison  forever  the  grateful 
picture  which  filled  them. 

The  arrival  of  his  sister  broke  the  spell. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  after  shaking  hands  cordially  with 
Padre  Saccoui,  "  everything  is  ready,  and  the  Gen- 
eral is  impatient  to  be  off." 

The  ride,  which  lasted  throughout  the  day,  was 
broken  several  times.  At  the  last  stage  the  General 
yielded  up  the  reins  to  Loreno,  who  invited  Agatha, 
from  whom  he  had  been  separated  since  the  first 
stage,  to  take  the  seat  at  his  side.  He  was  an  excel- 
lent whip,  and  sent  the  horses  along  steadily  and 
swiftly,  and  as  they  whirled  around  a  bend  which 
brought  the  long  row  of  Alps  in  view,  with  Monte 
Rosa  like  an  Amazon  towering  above  her  sisters,  the 
sunlight  was  still  playing  over  the  snowy  mountain- 
tops. 

"  How  beautiful ! "  Agatha  exclaimed. 

"  Yet,"  said  her  companion,  "  I  think  the  sunlight 
upon  Monte  Generoso  is  the  prettiest  object  of  the 
landscape  at  this  hour.  You  will  be  able  to  see  it 
in  a  few  moments.  Now  look  out  for  it,"  he  said 
presently,  —  "  almost  behind  us." 

The  view   across   the   plain  to  rugged   Generoso 


154  AGATHA  PAGE. 

burst  suddenly  upon  them.  Loreno  pointed  out  the 
town  of  Varese,  while  yet  farther,  removed  somewhat 
from  the  cluster  of  houses,  was  a  large  hotel,  and 
across  the  valley  a  villa  upon  the  crown  of  a  low  hill. 
Around  the  latter  were  spacious  grounds,  and  she 
could  see  that  it  was  a  beautiful  estate. 

"  That  is  my  villa,"  he  said.  "  It  stands  at  the 
head  of  the  lake,  and  the  grounds  slope  down  to  the 
water.  What  impression  does  this  country  make 
upon  3'ou  ?  "  he  added  earnestly. 

"  It  is  charming,  — indeed,  not  unlike  Erba." 

"  Then  I  hope  that  some  of  your  affection  for  the 
Brianza  may  be  transferred  to  it."  And  he  looked 
into  her  face  wistfully. 

"  Is  Varese  itself  gay,  or  quiet  ?  "  Agatha  inquired 
hastily. 

"Neither;  but  in  activity,  of  course  not  even  a 
suggestion  of  what  it  once  was.  After  Sforza  intro- 
duced the  mulberry-tree  and  the  silk-worm  into 
Lombardy,  Varese  took  the  lead  in  silk-making,  and 
her  silks  and  velvets  were  greatly  prized  even  in 
France.  To  give  you  an  idea  of  their  prosperity  I 
need  only  tell  you  that  during  the  sixteenth  century 
there  was  not  a  poor  citizen  in  Varese.  The  next 
century,  however,  brought  bad  fortune,  and  a  his- 
torian of  that  time  says  that  any  one  of  the  Varese 
shopkeepers  of  the  preceding  century  could  have 
bought  out  all  the  shopkeepers  of  the  town  in  his 
day." 

"  Poor  fellows !  how  did  they  lose  their  money? " 

"  Through  the  great  balances  due  them  by  France, 
especially  Lyons,  being  paid  in  paper  money  instead 


CONFIDENCES.  155 

of  in  coin,  by  which  act  Varese  manufacturers  lost 
ninety  per  cent  of  their  investments.  At  first  they 
despaired;  but  the  generosity  of  the  Duke  of  Modern* 
during  his  residence  in  Yarese  gave  them  heart  again. 
During  the  last  one  hundred  years  the  town  has  had 
her  ups  and  downs.  Before  the  introduction  of  rail- 
roads, for  example,  it  was  on  the  high-road  to  France, 
Germany,  and  Flanders  ;  but  the  railroads  and  the 
new  passes  changed  all  that.  The  citizens,  however, 
still  keep  alive  the  traditions  of  Varese's  former 
affluence,  and  always  hope.  Our  wines  enjoy  a  good 
reputation,  and  we  have  some  excellent  factories.  I 
will  show  you  my  carriages,  all  made  here ;  Varese 
furniture  is  well  thought  of,  and  our  silk  is  even 
now  sought  after.  We  have  four  factories  for  mak- 
ing church  organs,  and  you  have  surely  heard  of 
the  bells  cast  by  the  Bizzozera.  But  the  greatest 
pride  of  the  modern  Varesini  I  have  kept  for  the 
last." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?  " 

"  That  here  was  executed  the  first  act  of  sov- 
ereignty for  Lombardy  in  the  name  of  Victor 
Emmanuel." 

"  Brava  Varese  !  " 

"  At  present  my  townsmen  hope  great  things  from 
the  Milanese,  some  of  whom  are  buying  and  building 
summer  villas  near  the  town." 

"  But  how  can  you  hope  to  bid  for  many  of  the 
Milanese  against  the  incomparable  attractions  of 
Lake  Como?" 

"  While  no  one  exceeds  your  Milanese  in  his  desire 
for  a  little  country  air  in  the  summer-time,  no  one 


156  AGATHA   PAGE. 

can  be  more  bored  than  he  at  the  end  of  three  days, 
if  he  has  not  that  which  recalls  his  city  life.  He 
wishes  to  pay  visits,  go  to  his  cafe",  read  the  news- 
papers, hear  a  little  music  if  he  may,  —  all  of  which 
require  a  sufficient  population  to  make  a  demand  for 
them.  Our  little  city  has  this  advantage  over  the 
silent  hills  of  Como,  —  it  can  offer  the  charms  of  the 
country  with  a  certain  continuance  of  city  habits." 

u  But  do  your  rich  visitors  and  residents  do  nothing 
except  amuse  themselves?  " 

"  A  few  do  more.  My  friend  Dandolo,  for  example, 
belongs  to  a  family  renowned  for  its  benevolence. 
His  grandfather  bought  a  convent  which  had  been 
suppressed,  and  turned  it  into  a  villa.  Here  he  de- 
livered lectures  upon  agriculture  to  the  inhabitants, 
and  gave  them  the  benefit  of  his  personal  experi- 
ence ;  his  son  continued  the  work ;  and  the  grand- 
sons in  good  time  took  it  up.  One  brother,  however, 
was  killed  in  Rome  while  fighting  the  French,  and 
Emilio  returning  from  the  war  was  left  alone.  Yet 
he  has  done  much,  both  by  example  and  by  practical 
effort." 

44  And  you  ?  "  she  asked,  smiling  archly. 

44 1  ?  Well,  I  confess  that  I  do  but  little  in  propor- 
tion to  my  opportunity,  and  even  that  little  becomes 
contemptible  in  the  presence  of  one  who  does  so  much 
for  the  unfortunate ;  "  and  he  looked  reverently  into 
the  face  that  had  grown  suddenly  serious. 

44  My  poor  efforts,"  she  said,  with  a  touch  of 
sadness,  4t  don't  even  merit  the  recognition  of  an 
apology." 

44  Others  think  differently  ;  "  and  he  paused  before 


CONFIDENCES.  157 

adding,  "  if  I  had  a  good  example  always  before  me, 
I  feel  that  I  might  really  accomplish  something.  But 
there  is  no  co-operation  here,  and  my  knowledge  of 
what  I  might  do  is  annulled  by  my  lack  of  zeal." 

In  his  preoccupation  he  had  neglected  his  duties, 
and  the  Duchess  found  it  necessary  to  call  him  to 
order. 

"  Hurry  on,  Filippo  I  "  she  called.  "  The  horses 
can  rest  for  the  next  week." 

"  Eu  ! "  he  called  to  the  leaders,  with  the  soft 
dove-like  sound  universal  among  Italian  drivers.  In 
the  present  instance,  at  least,  the  result  was  in  the 
inverse  ratio  to  the  power  of  the  sound,  and  just  as 
the  afterglow  of  the  sun  shot  into  the  heavens  the 
coach  dashed  into  the  villa  grounds. 

When  the  steps  were  brought,  Filippo  busied  him- 
self with  his  companion's  wraps  until  his  other  guests 
had  clambered  down.  The  Duchess  turned  to  wait 
for  Agatha,  but  seeing  that  her  brother  lagged,  dis- 
creetly led  the  way  into  the  house.  Then  Filippo 
alighted,  and  taking  Agatha's  hand  helped  her  to  the 
ground ;  still  retaining  her  hand  he  led  her  across  the 
threshold  of  his  home  and  bowed  as  she  passed  in 
front  of  him.  She  flushed  slightly,  and  the  hand 
which  the  Duchess  now  claimed,  trembled. 

"  Welcome  to  my  brother's  home ! "  said  the  Duch- 
ess, kissing  her  affectionately.  "  In  both  our  names, 
welcome  indeed !  " 

It  is  an  eventful  moment  when  a  sister  first  tacitly 
acknowledges  her  who  has  won  the  brother's  heart, 
for  they  will  be  either  sisters  or  opponents.  When 


158  AGATHA    PAGE. 

the  bond  is  close  between  brother  and  sister,  it  is 
one  not  to  be  lightly  loosened.  Playfellows  in  baby- 
hood, companions  in  childhood,  friends  in  youth  and 
confidants  in  budding  maturity ;  knit  together  by 
common  interests  and  natural  instinct,  they  have 
shared  their  joys  and  suffered  the  same  sorrows 
until  their  hearts  beat  with  peculiar  correspondence. 
Through  it  all  she  has  become  more  womanly,  he 
more  manly  ;  and  awakening  to  this  fact  each  re- 
joices in  the  other  and  there  continues  between  them 
the  nearest  approach  to  a  relation  of  equality  that  is 
possible  between  the  two  sexes  :  when  lo  !  some  fine 
morning  a  little  maid  appears  whose  tastes,  opinions, 
wishes,  and  even  prejudices  are  counted  more  worthy 
of  attention  than  those  of  the  old  comrade  ;  whose 
fellowship  is  plainly  preferred,  whose  adoption,  in  a 
word,  is  complete. 

Yet  she  who  is  installed  so  confidently  upon  an- 
other's throne  has  need  of  a  loving  Mentor.  Man- 
kind has  not  learned  —  and  perhaps  never  will 
learn  —  to  be  reasonable  regarding  a  young  wife. 
The  ancient  Adam  seems  to  have  believed  his  Eve 
equipped  with  all  the  wisdom  and  self-denial  that 
belong  only  to  experience,  and  in  consequence  un- 
justly blamed  his  unhappy  bride  :  the  modern  Adam, 
with  corresponding  thoughtlessness,  seems  to  expect 
his  Eve  to  understand  his  temper  and  his  palate  as 
perfectly  as  though  she  had  rubbed  against  his 
rough  edges  and  made  his  coffee  since  childhood. 
But  the  modern  Eve  has  often  a  guardian  angel  in 
the  guise  of  her  husband's  sister.  Let  her  lay  hold 
of  that  sister's  heart  and  enjoy  its  sweet  sympathy, 


CONFIDENCES.  159 

profit  by  its  wisdom,  and  woo  from  it  sage  hints  born 
of  experience. 

The  following  morning,  was  beautifully  clear,  and 
Loreno,  rising  early,  sauntered  to  the  garden.  Upon 
his  return,  seeing  no  signs  of  his  guests,  he  went  to 
his  room  to  write.  He  was  restless,  however,  and 
soon  threw  down  his  pen  and  stepped  out  upon  the 
balcony. 

The  villa  had  belonged  to  his  family  for  several 
generations,  and  every  summer  of  his  youth  had  been 
passed  here.  The  room  in  which  he  now  slept  was 
known  as  the  Padrone's  room,  and  his  father  and 
grandfather  had  occupied  it  before  him ;  it  was 
directly  below  his  old  one,  and  therefore  the  view 
from  its  balcony  was  familiar. 

Sweeping  down  with  a  gentle  curve,  a  lawn  fell  to 
the  tranquil  lake  of  Varese,  a  mile  away,  the  waters 
of  its  farther  shore  seeming  to  bathe  the  feet  of 
Monte  Rosa,  whose  ponderous  sides  glistened  in  the 
sunlight.  To  the  left  the  line  of  the  snow-covered 
Alps  led  the  eye  far  away  to  the  needle-point  of 
Monte  Viso;  while  to  the  right,  where  the  near 
Italian  hills  shut  in  the  view,  the  famous  chapels 
of  the  Sacro  Monte  stood  out  sharply  against  the 
summer  sky.  Ah,  how  he  longed  to  go  and  ask 
the  sweet  girl  his  roof  now  sheltered  to  be  mistress 
of  these  downs  and  groves,  these  flowers  and  splash- 
ing brooks  upon  which  his  eyes  turned,  but  whose 
power  to  give  him  happiness  was  gone  unless  she 
should  come  and  share  their  fellowship ! 

Presently  his  sister  appeared  upon  the  terrace  and 


160  AGATHA    PAGE. 

stood  breathing  the  pure  air.  His  eye  brightened 
with  pleasure,  and  he  watched  her  for  a  moment 
before  speaking.  She  turned,  and  looking  up  waved 
her  hand  and  answered  his  morning  greeting.  After 
chatting  with  her  for  a  few  moments  he  went  below 
and  joined  her. 

41 1  presume  Miss  Page  is  tired  after  her  ride,"  he 
ventured. 

"  Very  likely." 

"  It 's  a  great  pleasure  for  me  to  have  you  all  here," 
and  his  gaze  was  fixed  upon  the  tranquil  view. 

Her  eyes  twinkled  as  she  replied  solicitously,  — 

"  You  don't  think,  then,  that  I  took  too  great  a 
liberty  with  your  hospitality  ?  " 

He  turned  quickly  toward  her.  "  Why,  Costa nza  ! 
you  cannot  impose  upon  me.  You  know  how  wel- 
come any  friend  of  yours  would  be  at  any  time; 
but  in  this  instance  I  am  peculiarly  happy  to  receive 
your  friends." 

She  slipped  her  hand  through  his  arm  and  looked 
into  his  face  lovingly. 

"  You  like  Miss  Page,  Filippo  ?  " 

He  answered  her  look  firmly.  "  I  have  never 
known  any  one  whom  I  admire  so  thoroughly." 

Her  hand  closed  tightly  upon  his  arm,  and  with  her 
eyes  upon  his  she  added,  "A  woman,  dear,  sees  clearly 
through  other  women  ;  and  any  one  who  succeeds  in 
winning  Agatha's  faith  will  be  very  fortunate." 

He  paused  for  a  moment  and  then  said  steadily,  "  I 
intend  to  try." 

A  door  opened  above  them,  and  turning,  they  saw 
Agatha  upon  her  balcony.  She  wore  a  bunch  of 


CONFIDENCES.  161 

fresh  flowers  in  her  dress,  and  a  rose  was  fastened  in 
her  hair. 

The  Duchess  smiled  slightly  and  glanced  at  the 
bunch  in  her  own  belt.  "  By  the  bye,"  she  said,  "  I 
suppose  it  is  you  I  must  thank  for  these  exquisite 
flowers." 

"  Yes,  I  took  a  walk  before  my  coffee  was  sent  up, 
and  picked  a  few  flowers  on  the  way." 

The  young  girl  above  now  caught  sight  of  them, 
and  bade  them  a  cheery  good-morning. 

"  Am  I  the  last  one  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No ;  you  see  all  the  early  birds  here,"  the  Duch- 
ess answered. 

"  Then  I  '11  hurry  down  to  shame  the  others." 

"  That  won't  be  till  the  new  year  gets  ahead  of 
the  old,"  called  Padre  Sacconi,  as  he  and  the  Gen- 
eral, arm  in  arm,  came  around  the  corner  of  the 
house. 

The  General  had  awakened  early,  and  after  light- 
ing a  cigar,  had  gone  to  the  terrace,  where  in  a  few 
moments  he  was  joined  by  Padre  Sacconi,  who  pro- 
posed a  stroll  in  the  grove. 

"  Let  us  sit  down  on  that  bench  yonder,"  said  the 
priest,  presently.  "  I  have  something  to  tell  you." 

They  seated  themselves,  and  the  Count,  turning  to 
his  companion,  waited  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 

"I  have  news  for  you,  General,"  Padre  Sacconi 
began,  "which  its  bearer,  the  Marquis  Loreno,  thinks 
you  would  prefer  to  hear  from  my  lips  rather  than 
from  his.  However  that  may  be,  I  trust  it  will  be 
welcome." 

The  General's  eyes  twinkled ;  he  believed  Agatha 
11 


162  AGATHA   PAGE. 

had  consented  to  become  Loreno's  wife,  and  that  they 
thought  thus  to  break  the  news  to  him. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  he  asked ;  "  out  with  it !  " 

"  It  is  from  Paris ;  from  one  of  the  studios — where 
students  of  sculpture  are  sometimes  received." 

The  General's  eyes  grew  bright  and  his  face  be- 
came serious,  a  spot  of  red  mounting  to  each  cheek. 

"  The  Marquis,"  continued  the  priest,  warily, 
"made  the  acquaintance  of  a  young  woman  there, 
who  gives  unusual  promise  of  success,  and  he  bears  a 
message  from  her  to  her  father."  Knowing  the  Gen- 
eral's hot  temper,  and  having  been  made  acquainted 
with  the  circumstances  of  Mercede's  letter,  he  paused, 
expecting  at  least  an  indignant  protest. 

"  The  message  is  from  my  daughter,"  was  the 
quiet  comment. 

"  Yes,  from  Mercede.  She  is  showing  wonderful 
talent,  I  hear." 

The  Count  remained  silent  for  some  moments,  look- 
ing up  the  path.  "  What  is  her  message  ?  "  he  asked 
presently. 

"  The  spirit  of  it  is  this,"  —  and  the  kind-hearted 
old  mediator  permitted  the  message  to  receive  the 
soft  color  of  his  own  nature  :  "  She  realizes  now  that 
her  life,  —  poor  girl !  —  has  again  a  ray  of  interest  to 
her  ;  that  her  leaving  for  Paris  so  suddenly,  and  writ- 
ing so  vaguely  of  her  intentions  was  the  result  —  quite 
natural,  as  it  seems  to  me — of  the  strain  (and  it  must 
have  been  a  terrible  one, poor  child!)  which  had  been 
put  upon  her  by  her  girlish  inexperience  and  love  of 
romance, — for  that,  after  all,  is  what  it  was.  The  dear 
girl  hopes  for  her  father's  consideration,  —  that  was 


CONFIDENCES.  163 

the  precise  word,  — hopes,  under  the  almost  insupport- 
able circumstances,  for  a  father's  consideration ;  and 
more,  dear  friend,  this  poor  lonely  girl,  struggling 
bravely  to  win  a  name  which  her  child  may  bear  with- 
out shame,  asks  for  her  father's  sympathy." 

"Is  that  her  word  also?"  asked  the  General, 
hoarsely. 

"  Her  precise  word." 

The  father's  tone  was  full  of  feeling,  and  he  was 
evidently  touched  ;  therefore  the  priest  thought  it 
best  to  leave  well  enough  alone. 

After  a  long  and  profound  silence  the  General 
rose  and  moved  toward  the  house.  His  companion 
joined  him,  and  they  walked  on  without  speaking  for 
some  minutes.  When  the  Count  spoke,  his  voice  was 
steady  and  calm. 

"  Padre  Sacconi,"  he  said,  "  I  'm  a  pretty  old  man 
to  treasure  either  ambition  or  bitterness.  Mercede 
has  made  me  suffer,  and  a  good  deal ;  but  she  too 
has  suffered,  and  must  suffer,  I  fear,  in  the  many 
years  before  her.  I  shall  write  to  her ;  the  Marquis 
has  her  address  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  Agatha  knows  of  all  this?  " 

"  I  think  so  ;  indeed,  I  'm  sure  of  it." 

An  expression  of  pain  passed  over  his  face. 

"  And  Agatha  did  n't  dare  tell  me  herself?  " 

"  She  knew  that  the  subject  was  painful,  and 
that  —  " 

"  That,"  interrupted  the  Count  with  a  sad  smile, 
"  her  uncle's  temper  is  untrustworthy  ;  but  do  you 
know,  Padre,  that  seems  a  long  time  ago.  While  I 


164  AGATHA   PAGE. 

have  certainly  lost  much  in  strength,  I  feel  that  I  've 
gained  something.  I  think  I  'm  a  little  less  —  well, 
say  impulsive  —  than  I  was.  Not  that  it 's  all  gone, 
by  any  means,  but  that  I  seem  to  covet  peace  and 
value  good-will  a  little  more  than  I  did.  I  shall 
write  to  my  daughter,  and  —  and  I  thank  you  very 
much  for  your  kindness,  old  friend,  to-day  and  in 
the  past.  But  you  don't  wish  to  go  in  yet,  do 
you  ? "  he  demanded,  with  easy  indifference  to  his 
own  leadership.  "  Why  not  take  another  turn  up  the 
path  and  tell  me  all  you  know  about  Mercede ;  I  was 
always  sure  that  girl  had  talent.  She  has  a  remark- 
able face.  Did  you  ever  notice  an  intense  expression 
of  the  eyes  that  seems  to  be  the  very  essence  of  earn- 
estness ?  It 's  really  extraordinary  ;  and  when  you 
think  of  it,  her  temperament  is  a  thoroughly  artistic 
one.  I  don't  like,  mind  you,  that  a  daughter  of  mine 
should  sell  the  work  of  her  brain  and  hand  to  others, 
but  I  suppose  I  've  got  to  accept  that  with  her  new 
life.  It 's  a  wonderful  change  from  what  I  'd  dreamed 
•would  be  my  child's  future ;"  and  sadness  again  stole 
into  his  face. 

Then  his  companion  recited  the  glory  of  talent, 
and  drew,  as  a  result  of  Mercede's  success,  a  picture 
so  wisely  adapted  to  the  Count's  ambition,  that  he 
became  almost  reconciled  to  her  new  life. 

Then  the  General,  whose  heart  was  warmed,  made 
a  confidence  on  his  part,  after  which  he  stood  and  ab- 
sorbed attentively  an  ex-parte  and  enthusiastic  state- 
ment of  the  noble  traits  of  a  certain  young  Marquis, 
meanwhile  nodding  his  head  emphatically,  and  utter- 
ing ejaculations  of  "  E  vero  !  Certo !  Sicuro  I " 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"IL  TRAMONTO." 

THE  next  few  days  were  divided  between  music, 
riding,  driving,  and  roaming  about  the  grounds.  Lo- 
reno  was  sorely  tempted  to  speak  his  heart  to  Agatha, 
but  resisted  firmly,  although  he  put  no  restraint  upon 
his  devotion  to  her.  The  General  seemed  in  uncom- 
mon spirits,  while  Padre  Sacconi  was  rather  inclined 
to  censure  himself  when  he  found  how  contented  he 
could  be  away  from  his  flock. 

Loreno  soon  discovered  the  old  gentleman's  weak- 
ness for  books,  and  he  established  him  in  a  big  arm- 
chair near  the  open  window  of  the  library,  with  rows 
of  rare  volumes  on  all  sides,  and  with  a  roving  com- 
mission to  delve  among  them  to  his  heart's  content. 
Now  and  again  the  scholarly  old  face  would  appear 
in  the  music-room,  wooed  by  the  magic  fingers  of 
Signor  Veltri  and  the  sound  of  Agatha's  bow  ;  or 
the  sweet  old  priest  would  wander  off  for  half  an 
hour  among  the  flowers  or  the  big  chestnut-trees, 
only  to  return  soon  to  his  easy  chair  and  his  books. 

The  young  musician  did  not  disguise  his  happiness. 
Treated  as  a  friend,  surrounded  by  congenial  com- 
panions, neither  persecuted  by  attention  nor  neg- 
lected, he  walked  and  talked,  practised  his  music, 


16G  AGATHA   PAGE. 

and  rambled  where  inclination  suggested,  from  hour 
to  hour.  Then,  too,  he  often  accompanied  his  host, 
Agatha,  and  Gaeta,  upon  a  gallop  over  the  surround- 
ing country.  The  Duchess  was  everywhere,  and 
seemed  in  her  element  as  she  watched  over  the 
pleasure  of  the  guests  ;  but  she  and  the  Duke 
sometimes  jumped  into  her  pony  phaeton  —  at  least, 
Loreno  always  called  it  hers  —  and  went  off  alone 
for  two  or  three  hours.  Although  Loreno's  guests 
had  planned  to  push  on  to  Stresa  on  Saturday,  they 
had  not  yet  visited  the  "  Sacro  Monte,"  a  high  hill 
upon  which  by  the  enterprise  of  a  priest  more  than  a 
dozen  little  chapels  or  "stations"  are  built  at  regular 
intervals,  with  a  road  leading  past  them  to  the  hill- 
top. 

"  Why  not  go  this  evening  ?  "  suggested  Loreno  on 
the  morning  of  Friday  ;  "  there  is  not  a  cloud  in  the 
sky." 

The  plan  met  with  general  approval,  and  there- 
upon he  extended  it. 

"  Let  us,"  he  said,  "  make  an  early  start  so  that 
those  who  wish  to  push  on  to  the  Campo  dei  Fiore 
may  see  the  sunset  across  the  Alps." 

They  left  the  villa  about  four  o'clock,  and  drove  to 
the  first  chapel,  beyond  which  a  carriage  could  not 
go.  The  Duchess  and  Gaeta  mounted  ponies,  but  the 
others  preferred  to  walk.  Agatha  was  between  her 
uncle  and  Loreno,  while  the  Duke,  Signer  Veltri, 
and  Padre  Sacconi  walked  a  few  yards  ahead. 

"  The  Duchess  told  me,  with  much  pleasure,"  said 
the  priest  to  Signor  Veltri,  "  that  you  have  consented 
to  accept  her  daughter  as  a  pupil  next  winter." 


"  IL   TRAMONTO."  167 

"  The  obligation  is  mine,"  was  the  answer.  "  I 
am  very  glad  to  get  pupils." 

"  But  you  can't  take  more  than  a  certain  number." 

"  My  time  has  never  been  full." 

"Is  that  possible!"  Padre  Sacconi  had  never 
before  heard  any  really  good  pianist,  and  this  young 
artist's  skill  filled  him  with  wonder.  He  had  sup- 
posed that  pupils  would  throng  about  such  a 
master. 

"  Only  artists  have  all  their  time  taken,  and  I  am 
merely  a  student." 

"  Dear  me,  dear  me  !  "  answered  the  simple  priest ; 
"  then  what  must  they  be  ?  " 

"  I  understand,"  remarked  the  Duke,  "  that  you 
taught  the  children  of  the  Countess  Casolini  last 
winter." 

"  I  have  n't  them  any  longer,"  and  Veltri's  brown 
eyes  met  the  Duke's  ;  "  I  told  the  Countess  that  her 
eldest  daughter  had  no  talent,  and  that  it  was  a  waste 
of  money  to  have  her  taught.  She  was  offended,  and 
dismissed  me  instantly.' 

The  nobleman  smiled  grimly.  "Honesty  isn't 
always  wise." 

"  I  'm  sorry,  of  course,  for  through  the  Countess  I 
got  several  pupils,  and  two  of  them  have  already  been 
withdrawn  ;  yet  what  else  could  I  do  ?  I  thought  I 
ought  to  tell  her  my  opinion,  but  I  said  I  was  willing 
to  teach  the  child." 

"  Have  you  heard  Gaeta  play  ?  " 

"  Yes,  this  morning." 

"  And  you  think  it  worth  while  for  her  to  study 
music  ?  " 


168  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  Yes,  I  do,  although  I  can't  tell  the  extent  of  her 
talent ;  but  she  holds  her  hands  well,  and  I  hope  has 
true  feeling." 

The  Duke  eyed  him  closely  while  he  spoke,  and 
then  smiled  slightly,  but  said  nothing ;  presently  their 
attention  was  attracted  by  an  arch,  and  the  conversa- 
tion took  another  turn. 

Loreno  and  his  companions  had  fallen  many  yards 
in  the  rear,  and  fearing  that  the  Count  was  growing 
weary,  Loreuo  offered  him  his  arm. 

"  What  for  ?  "  demanded  the  General. 

"  It's  rather  a  long  pull,  and  I  thought  you  might 
be  a  little  tired." 

The  old  gentleman  drew  himself  up,  his  pride  evi- 
dently touched. 

"  Not  in  the  least,  sir  !  "  he  said.  "  Am  I  walking 
too  slowly  for  you  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed  ! "  and  then  as  the  other  quickened 
his  pace,  he  added  in  a  laughing  tone,  "  Oh,  come, 
General,  don't  hurry  us ;  your  niece  and  I  have  yet 
to  climb  to  the  top  of  the  Campo  dei  Fiore." 

The  Count  laughed  contentedly.  "  I  've  been  a 
good  walker  in  my  day,"  he  said ;  "  my  niece  can 
bear  me  out  in  that,  for  it 's  not  so  very  long  ago  we 
walked  from  Erba  to  Bellagio  —  eh,  Agatha  ?  " 

"  And  only  a  few  weeks  ago,"  Agatha  added,  read- 
ily comprehending  the  situation,  "  do  you  remember 
walking  so  fast  from  Inverigo  across  the  hills  that  I 
cried  for  mercy  ?  " 

The  old  man  chuckled  at  the  recollection,  and  then 
grew  grave. 

"  I  doubt  if  it  ever  will  occur  again,"  he  said  pres- 


"7L    TRAMONTO."  169 

ently  ;  "  an  old  war-horse  must  give  way  sooner  or 
later  —  sooner  or  later." 

The  young  girl  regarded  him  with  great  tender- 
ness. "  Why,  uncle  dear,"  she  said,  "  what  are  you 
thinking  of?  After  this  little  change  of  air  you  will 
be  stronger  than  ever." 

"  Yes,  General,"  added  Loreno,  with  the  best  of 
intentions,  "compare  yourself  with  Padre  Sacconi, 
or  even  with  a  man  so  much  your  junior  as  Mr.  Dow  ! 
You  could  give  them  a  kilometer  in  five." 

"  Comfort  myself  by  comparison  with  a  priest  and 
a  slate-pencil  I  "  exclaimed  the  nettled  soldier. 

"I  mean,"  stammered  Loreno,  desperately,  "that 
you  could  distance  them  both  if  their  strength  were 
combined." 

"You  didn't  say  that!"  the  other  said  suspi- 
ciously. 

"  Well,  I  say  it  now." 

"  And  I  believe  my  uncle  could  —  easily,"  affirmed 
Agatha,  coming  to  the  rescue. 

The  Count  remained  silent  for  a  moment  or  two. 
"  I  am  getting  old  all  the  same,"  he  said  presently ; 
"  I  know  it  because  I  'm  so  testy.  I  did  n't  mean 
any  disrespect  to  my  dear  old  friend  Padre  Sacconi, 
nor  even  to  Mr.  Dow !  " 

This  evidence  of  his  increased  infirmity  saddened 
Agatha  greatly,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  she 
could  conceal  the  sudden  depression  of  her  spirits ; 
but  Loreno,  in  his  turn,  now  came  to  the  rescue 
bravely  and  effectively.  He  succeeded  in  starting 
the  Count  on  reminiscences  Avhich  wooed  him  into 
the  most  amiable  of  moods ;  and  the  old  gentleman, 


170  AGATHA  PAGE. 

either  from  a  sense  of  requital  or  in  obedience  to 
that  mysterious  intuition  which  leads  mankind 
when  in  a  confidential  mood  to  grasp  the  biceps 
of  its  fellow-man,  slipped  his  arm  through  that  of 
Loreno. 

When  they  reached  the  top,  Loreno  found  that  only 
the  Duke  and  Gaeta  would  push  on  with  Agatha  and 
himself,  the  others  being  contented  with  the  view 
from  the  veranda  of  the  inn.  So  the  quartet  started 
off,  the  Duke  with  Gaeta  setting  out  at  a  rapid  pace. 

At  first  the  ground  was  wet  and  slippery,  but  they 
soon  entered  a  path  which  was  dry  and  hard,  leading 
toward  the  southern  side  of  the  mountain.  Up  this 
they  climbed  briskly  for  some  time,  until  suddenly 
they  came  upon  a  cleft  in  the  ground,  from  which  a 
fresh  breeze  blew. 

"  How  refreshing  !  "  exclaimed  Gaeta. 

"This  breeze  is  said  to  be  always  here,"  Loreno 
remarked,  "  but  in  winter  it  feels  warm  and  damp ; 
there  is  a  smaller  cleft  a  little  higher  up." 

"  Let  us  push  on,"  suggested  the  Duke  ;  "  the  sun 
is  falling  fast." 

So  off  they  started  again,  through  fine  grass  and 
bushes,  until  presently  they  found  themselves  in  the 
midst  of  a  bewildering  profusion  of  plants  and  flow- 
ers. They  had,  however,  no  time  to  linger,  and  with 
another  effort  were  soon  upon  the  summit.  Gaeta 
found  a  seat,  and  availed  herself  of  this  opportunity 
to  rest,  her  father  standing  near  her  absorbed  in  the 
splendid  pageant. 

Loreno  led  Agatha  slowly  away  from  them,  beyond 
a  high  ledge  of  rock,  passing  around  which  they  stood 


"/£    TRAMONTO."  171 

silent,  gazing  over  the  vast  plain  of  Lombardy  framed 
by  the  glowing  Alps  and  the  distant  Apennines, 
while  below  them  the  picturesque  lakes  reflected 
different  lights.  Loreno  watched  the  face  he  loved 
as  the  sun  slowly  disappeared  behind  the  mountain- 
tops,  its  rays  still  penetrating  the  gloom,  but  losing 
strength  with  every  passing  moment. 

"  How  awful  it  would  be,"  — his  low  voice  was  rich 
with  feeling,  —  "  if  we  knew  that  it  had  sunk  for  the 
last  time  !  How  willingly  one  would  die  !  " 

Agatha  shuddered  slightly.  "  What  a  dreary 
thought !  "  she  said. 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  you  shudder,"  he  continued, 
"  although  at  a  mere  fantasy.  I  too  shudder,  but  I 
have  good  reason."  She  turned  and  looked  into  his 
face  wonderingly.  "  Do  you  know,"  he  went  on, 
"  that  from  this  moment  I  fear  my  life  is  to  be 
shrouded  in  a  gloom  as  hopeless  and  even  harder  to 
endure  ?  I  have  known  for  some  time  that  this  mo- 
ment must  come,  and  dread  has  almost  made  a  cow- 
ard of  me."  His  lips  moved,  but  no  sound  came,  and 
he  put  his  hand  to  his  throat  as  though  it  were 
parched.  Then  his  eager  eyes  sought  hers  and  held 
them  steadfast  as  he  spoke  again.  "  My  heart,  all  my 
being,  has  been  illumed  by  a  glorious  hope ;  to-night 
I  fear  it  will  sink  and  leave  me  in  darkness."  His 
eyes  grew  wistful,  while  his  tremulous  breath  gave 
evidence  of  the  deep  passion  that  stirred  him. 

"  I  love  you,"  he  said,  baring  his  head  reverently ; 
*'  I  love  you  deeply  —  eternally  !  " 

He  regarded  her  anxiously  as  her  eyes  grew  fright- 
ened, and  her  hand  sought  a  gold  cross  hanging  upon 


172  AGATHA   PAGE. 

her  bosom.  Then  he  gently  clasped  both  the  symbol 
and  the  trembling  hand. 

"  Is  there  hope  of  a  morrow  for  me  ?  "  he  asked, 
"  or  must  it  always  be  night  ?  " 

The  whole  intensity  of  her  nature  shone  in  the 
eyes  that  looked  deep  into  his  for  a  full  moment. 
Then  the  light  of  a  pure  soul  at  rest  came  into  her 
face,  and  he  bent  down  and  kissed  her. 


PAET      SECOND. 


PART    SECOND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AN     INVITATION. 

Do  not  judge  your  fellow-men  too  much  by  their 
masks.  I  have  seen  barbers  with  the  faces  of  poets ; 
I  have  sat  near  a  red-faced  fat  priest  whose  thick 
lips  trembled  and  whose  bleared  eyes  filled  with  tears 
at  the  tender  tones  of  an  organ :  nor  because  a 
face  is  stern  does  it  follow  that  the  heart  it  screens 
is  hard. 

There  is  an  old  man  universally  known,  and  at 
whom  most  of  us  look  askance,  of  whom  some  hard 
things  are  said.  He  is  often  called  "  the  Enemy," 
and  treated  accordingly.  Yet  behind  his  grim  visage 
is  a  heart  which  lavishes  gifts  upon  the  young  until 
their  beauty  rivals  that  of  the  angels.  Abuse  old 
Father  Time,  and  he  retaliates;  treat  him  as  a  friend, 
and  there  is  none  better.  This  was  the  principle 
upon  which  Agatha  and  her  husband  ordered  their 
married  life,  and  now,  although  the  fifth  anniversary 
of  their  wedding  day  had  passed,  Time  had  evidently 
befriended  them. 

They  were  together  in  their  home  in  Rome.  The 
room  in  which  they  sat  was  large,  and  furnished  with 


176  AGATHA   PAGE. 

warm  hangings  and  carved  furniture  showing  Vene- 
tian skill.  A  bright  fire  blazed  upon  the  hearth,  in 
front  of  which  a  table  was  drawn,  with  a  tall  lamp 
upon  it  covered  with  a  red  silk  shade. 

Agatha  was  writing,  while  Filippo  sat  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  table  reading.  He  looked  up  presently 
from  his  book  and  watched  her  affectionately. 

"  To  whom  are  you  writing  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Mercede." 

"  Give  her  my  love,  and  tell  her  how  glad  I  was  to 
hear  of  her  Salon  success." 

"  I  included  your  congratulations  with  mine  long 
ago.  Is  there  anything  else  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  of  anything  except  kindest  regards 
to  the  General.  Are  they  still  in  Paris  ?  " 

"  Of  course ;  they  don't  go  to  Cannes  until  next 
week.  What  a  memory  }-ou  have  !  " 

He  smiled  amiably,  and  remained  absorbed  in 
thought  for  some  time. 

"  What  a  change  has  come  over  things  within  the 
past  five  or  six  years  ! "  he  said  presently. 

"  Wonderful ! "  and  Agatha  looked  dreamily  into 
the  fire,  her  face  bright  with  contentment. 

Yet,  after  all,  the  changes  were  not  so  wonderful. 
Loreno  had  quickly  become  domesticated,  while  little 
by  little  Agatha  had  succeeded  in  interesting  him  in 
some  of  the  plans  which  she  had  quietly  and  unob- 
trusively been  carrying  into  effect.  Her  sympathy 
with  the  poor  had  been  great,  even  as  a  young  girl ; 
and  after  her  marriage  she  availed  herself  of  the 
broader  sphere  opened  thereby  to  further  the  com- 
fort of  those  who  were  less  fortunate  than  herself. 


AN  INVITATION.  177 

Filippo,  regarding  this  as  suitable  work  for  a  woman, 
and  interested  in  whatever  was  identified  with  his 
wife,  gave  a  good-natured  sanction  to  her  efforts ; 
but  his  main  concern  was  with  politics.  He  had 
early  resigned  his  diplomatic  post,  and  being  chosen 
to  represent  the  district  of  Varese  in  the  National 
Parliament,  had  thrown  himself  with  vigor  into  this 
new  work,  and  was  already  one  of  the  most  promi- 
nent of  the  younger  statesmen. 

His  views  were  broad,  his  words  direct,  and  he 
won  recognition  from  the  leaders  of  both  the  Left 
and  the  Right. 

Among  all  the  politicians  with  whom  he  was 
thrown,  no  one  appealed  to  him  more  as  a  thinker, 
or  charmed  him  more  as  a  friend,  than  the  venerable 
Alfieri,  "  the  democratic  Marquis,"  as  he  was  called. 
When,  therefore,  this  statesman,  during  a  brief  visit 
at  Varese,  commended  earnestly  Agatha's  philan- 
thropic work,  Filippo's  interest  in  it  was  greatly 
quickened,  and  he  discovered  reason  for  the  sena- 
tor's approbation.  He  saw  that  the  prizes  which 
Agatha  gave  monthly  to  the  contadini  whose  homes 
were  clean  and  in  good  repair,  and  also  to  those  who 
cultivated  the  prettiest  plants  in  their  houses,  were 
agents  not  only  of  philanthropy  but  of  good  politi- 
cal economy,  and  that  her  sewing,  music,  and  other 
classes  were  based  upon  a  broad  principle.  There- 
upon he  adopted  her  plan  and  began  with  encouraging 
athletics  by  organizing  competitions,  and  eventually 
presented  to  the  town  a  fine  gymnasium.  In  good 
time  he  subsidized  the  theatre,  and  prevailed  upon 
the  railroad  to  offer  cheap  excursions,  —  in  short 

12 


178  AGATHA   PAGE. 

did  what  he  could  to  teach  the  poorer  classes  to 
amuse  themselves  rationally  and  healthfully.  From 
this  beginning  grew  more  important  endeavors,  one 
of  which  was  to  teach  the  peasantry  some  essential 
sanitary  laws.  His  most  ambitious  project,  however, 
was  the  founding  of  a  popular  bank  similar  to  those 
started  by  Luzzatti,  Schulze-Delitzsch  and  others ; 
and  he  adopted  the  same  plan  which  makes  those 
institutions  so  successful  in  meeting  the  perplexing 
questions  of  agricultural  credit. 

He  interested  several  of  his  influential  neighbors 
in  the  scheme,  and  by  agreeing  to  manage  the  cash 
department  himself,  induced  them  also  to  give  their 
services  without  pay.  The  purpose  of  the  bank  was 
to  receive  and  care  for  the  savings  of  the  poor, 
paying  them  good  interest,  advancing  liberally  upon 
produce  and  merchandise,  receiving  and  issuing  drafts 
upon  other  places,  and  putting  an  end  to  usury  by 
discounting  freely.  Then  it  issued  agrarian  deben- 
ture bonds  for  sums  of  five  hundred  lire,  to  form  a 
fund  for  the  carrying  on  of  agriculture.  On  these 
bonds  it  paid  good  interest,  and  the  investment  was 
felt  to  be  safe  by  the  purchasers,  because  the  bank 
not  only  had  a  paid-up  capital  and  reserve,  but  made 
an  alliance  with  the  other  banks  of  the  province  to 
issue  bonds  under  their  collective  guarantee. 

Thus  not  only  did  the  institution  facilitate  agricul- 
ture, but  it  circulated  the  unemployed  savings  of  the 
people,  facilitating  work  and  production.  Coin  which 
before  was  hidden  under  hearthstones  was  now  put 
at  interest  and  kept  in  circulation.  In  this  way 
political  economy  was  illustrated  practically  to  the 


AN  INVITATION.  179 

community,  and  shopkeepers,  farmers,  workmen,  and 
proprietors  were  associated  together. 

Thus  Loreno  found  much  in  the  new  plan  to  engage 
his  mind  as  well  as  his  time,  although  after  the  ma- 
chinery began  to  run  smoothly  he  was  relieved  from 
his  clerical  work.  In  Rome  he  was  naturally  en- 
grossed in  his  legislative  duties,  while  Agatha  was 
active  in  philanthropic  works,  to  which  she  gave  daily 
attention,  in  spite  of  the  claims —  never  unhonored  — 
of  her  son  Sebastiano  and  her  little  daughter  Teresa. 
Yet,  as  has  been  said,  such  changes  as  these  in  the 
life  of  the  Marquis  and  his  wife  were  not  wonderful. 
On  the  contrary,  they  were  quite  natural  to  the  ar- 
dent temperament  of  the  one  and  the  predisposition 
of  the  other. 

In  the  mean  time  the  General  had  carried  out  his 
intention  of  communicating  with  Mercede,  and  partly 
through  the  good  offices  of  Agatha  and  Filippo, 
partly  because  the  dawn  of  success  cast  a  warmer 
glow  over  Mercede's  horizon,  she  accepted,  or  rather 
she  did  not  repel,  her  father's  attempt  at  reconcilia- 
tion, and  sent  a  satisfactory  reply  to  his  letter.  This 
led  to  a  regular  correspondence  ;  and  when  she  real- 
ized that  he  had  no  intention  of  opposing  her  artistic 
career,  she  showed  her  appreciation  by  the  more 
unguarded  tone  of  her  letters.  As  the  years  went 
by,  and  the  artist's  hard  work  and  talent  began  to 
bear  fruit,  she  wrote  frankly  and  with  justifiable  pride 
to  her  father,  who  in  return  did  not  stint  his  ex- 
pressions of  satisfaction  ;  and  thus  they  were  gradu- 
ally brought  closer.  Then  came  a  stirring  epoch 


180  AGATHA   PAGE. 

in  the  artist's  career :  her  last  work  for  the  Salon 
created  a  furore,  and  photographs  of  it  appeared  in 
all  the  principal  cities  of  Europe.  The  name  of 
Madame  Andre  was  upon  every  tongue  that  spoke 
of  art,  and  naturally  Rome  was  soon  familiar  with 
it.  Then  came  a  report  that  the  renowned  sculp- 
tress was  coming  to  pass  the  remainder  of  the  winter 
in  the  Eternal  City,  followed  by  a  vague  rumor  that 
Madame  Andre  had  once  been  a  student  in  Rome  ; 
whereupon  there  were  sanguine  persons  who  declared 
that  they  remembered  having  once  met  a  little  French 
girl  bearing  the  name  of  Andre  whose  attempts  had 
even  then  impressed  them  most  favorably. 

About  this  time  Mercede  wrote  her  father  a 
dutiful  and  cordial  letter,  begging  him  to  pay  her 
a  visit,  and  proposing  that  afterward  they  should  go 
together  to  Rome,  stopping  on  the  way  for  a  little  rest 
at  Cannes.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  while  the  old  gentle- 
man was  perhaps  "  reformed,"  he  had  not  become  an 
angel,  and  it  is  certain  that  he  would  have  died  with- 
out ever  again  laying  eyes  upon  his  daughter,  had  she 
not  thus  asked  him  to  come  to  her. 

The  General  had  now  been  absent  about  two 
weeks,  and  in  a  letter  to  Agatha  told  of  his  surprise 
at  Mercede's  genius  and  of  his  gratification  at  the 
honor  paid  her.  He  was  evidently  very  happy,  and 
wrote  that  the  Parisian  air  agreed  with  him  amaz- 
ingly. Francesco  he  described  as  quite  a  young 
giant;  and  as  for  Mercede  —  his  impressions  may 
perhaps  be  best  summed  up  in  his  own  words  :  "  She 
seems  older  in  judgment  and  manner,  but  I  may  still 
say  *  she  is  thoroughly  Italian.'  r 


CHAPTER   II. 

A  NINE  DAYS'   WONDER. 

WHEN  Mercede  and  her  father  arrived  in  Rome, 
they  were  received  at  the  station  by  Agatha  and 
Filippo.  The  General  proposed  that  they  should  all 
dine  together  in  the  evening,  and  at  seven  o'clock 
the  Marquis  and  his  wife  drove  into  the  familiar  court 
and  climbed  the  long  flights  of  stone  steps,  leading 
past  the  mutilated  busts,  to  the  heavy  wooden  door 
bearing  the  name  of  the  Count  Ricci.  As  they  were 
ushered  in,  Mercede  came  forward  eagerly  to  greet 
them,  and  Agatha  had  a  better  chance  of  observing 
the  outward  change  that  time  had  wrought  in  her. 

She  thought  her  cousin  improved.  Some  of  the 
freshness  of  her  beauty  had  faded,  but  her  face  had 
undeniably  gained  in  dignity  and  intellect.  She  was 
tall,  graceful,  and  uncommonly  striking  in  appear- 
ance ;  her  carriage,  moreover,  had  an  ease  and  confi- 
dence that  was  beyond  the  promise  of  her  maiden- 
hood,—  the  result,  no  doubt,  of  her  more  developed 
character  and  of  her  success.  In  her  presence  not 
even  the  gracious  Queen  of  Italy  would  have  shone 
supreme ;  and  indeed  there  was  something  in  Mer- 
cede's  manner  and  courtliness  which  suggested  the 


182  AGATHA  PAGE. 

comparison  to  Agatha.  She  was  stately,  self-pos- 
sessed, and  vivacious  ;  attentive  to  what  was  said 
to  her,  intelligent  and  tactful  in  her  responses.  She 
possessed  also  the  gift  of  leading  well,  and  during 
the  dinner  and  the  long  evening  that  followed  chose 
topics  of  conversation  in  which  both  Agatha  and 
Loreno  were  sure  to  find  a  responsive  interest.  She 
was  full  of  vigor,  physical  and  mental,  and  under  her 
competent  direction  the  conversation  flowed  genially 
and  incessantly. 

Francesco  did  not  dine  with  the  others,  but  be- 
fore dinner  was  the  object  of  much  attention.  He 
was  a  well-favored  boy  with  pleasing  manners.  The 
Lorenos  were  charmed  with  child  and  mother,  while 
the  General  seemed  to  be  holding  a  mental  jubilee. 
What  the  last  five  years  had  added  to  his  marks  of 
age,  his  trip  to  Paris  and  its  sequel  seemed  to  have 
softened,  —  and  where  shall  we  find  the  true  elixir  of 
life  if  not  within  our  hearts  ?  The  hair  may  whiten, 
the  eye  grow  dim,  and  the  joints  stiffen  ;  but  all  this 
is  not  to  be  old,  it  is  mere  evidence  of  infirmity.  No, 
the  Count  was  not  old,  —  at  least,  not  to-night. 

Agatha  and  Filippo  had  already  agreed  upon  a  plan 
by  means  of  which  Mercede  should  be  introduced  to 
Roman  society.  Upon  one  thing  only  the  latter 
insisted,  —  that  she  should  be  presented  and  known 
hereafter  by  the  name  of  Andre ;  and  this  being 
readily  acceded  to,  she  accepted  gratefully  the  pro- 
posed plan.  It  was,  that  a  large  reception  should  be 
given  by  the  Marquis  and  his  wife  in  her  honor,  until 
which  occasion  Rome  should  be  kept  in  ignorance  of 
her  advent. 


A   NINE  DAYS'    WONDER.  183 

The  invitations  were  sent  out  immediately,  and  for 
the  ten  days  intervening,  the  city  was  full  of  the  flut- 
ter which  attends  a  new  social  sensation.  And  why 
not  ?  Life,  according  to  a  well-known  writer,  "  is 
composed  of  a  series  of  small  sensations ;  "  and  surely 
this  occasion  combined  the  uncertainty  of  a  debut  with 
the  gratification  of  a  most  normal  curiosity.  All  the 
elect  studied  anew  the  various  productions  of  the 
distinguished  visitor's  work,  on  the  chance  of  find- 
ing opportunity  to  rejoice  her  with  their  impressions. 
But  beyond  all  other  preliminary  sensations  was  sur- 
prise at  the  auspices  under  which  the  artist  was  to 
make  her  appearance  ;  and  social  Rome  craned  its 
neck  in  every  direction  to  discover  some  one  who 
could  explain  the  matter.  But  it  remained  a  mystery 
even  to  Mr.  Peter  Dow.  The  Duke  Faviola  and  his 
wife  were  undoubtedly  the  most  likely  persons  to 
satisfy  this  curiosity,  and  to  them  Mr.  Dow  went. 
He  found,  however,  that  while  sharing  his  interest 
they  also  shared  his  ignorance. 

"  When  I  spoke  of  Madame  Andre,"  said  the 
Duchess,  "  my  brother  merely  laughed,  and  the  Mar- 
chesa  said  that  they  entertain  so  seldom  they  feel 
justified  in  importing  the  latest  Parisian  novelty." 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  the  Duchess 
thought  of  her  forthcoming  costume. 

"  It  can't  be  your  sister's  long-lost  cousin ! "  sug- 
gested Mr.  Dow,  verily  inspired. 

"  No,  her  name  was  Finelli ;  and  besides,  she  has 
been  living  somewhere  near  Florence,  I  think." 

"  Well,  we  shall  know  next  Thursday.  But  it 
is  rather  surprising  that  neither  the  Marquis  nor 


184  AGATHA   PAGE. 

his  wife  has  ever  mentioned  Madame  Andre  to  any 
one." 

Tea  was  then  served,  and  the  visitor  noticed  that 
there  were  only  two  cups  upon  the  tray. 

"  The  Duke  and  Gaeta  are  off  somewhere  to- 
gether," he  said  confidently. 

"  No  ;  Gaeta  is  studying,  and  the  Duke  is  cleaning 
his  guns." 

"  Indeed !  "  and  he  thought  what  a  bad  habit  it  was 
to  trust  circumstantial  evidence.  "  Gaeta  has  made 
wonderful  progress  in  her  music  !  "  he  added  aloud. 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  Signor  Veltri  is  certainly  a 
splendid  master." 

"  It  was  a  lucky  day  for  him  when  he  went  to  the 
Villa  d'  Este." 

"  I  suppose  the  interest  my  brother  and  his  wife 
have  taken  in  him  has  helped  him." 

"  Helped  him !  I  should  think  so !  Between 
3'ou,  you  've  made  him.  He  told  me  himself  that 
his  time  has  all  been  taken  since  the  winter  Gaeta 
became  his  pupil." 

"  I  am  very  glad  ;  he  merits  success,  and  is  so  mod- 
est that  there  is  no  danger  of  his  being  spoiled." 

Mr.  Dow's  e}rebrows  and  lips  indicated  scepticism. 
"About  his  ability  I  agree  with  you,  but  as  to  his 
modesty  —  I  must  differ."  Then  in  reply  to  the  sur- 
prise on  his  companion's  face  he  continued,  "  He  is 
already  a  little  spoiled, — indeed,  very  much  spoiled; 
only  last  week  at  the  Countess  Fabiani's  he  left  the 
piano  because  some  people  near  him  were  talking." 

"  Do  you  blame  him  for  that  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  do.    What  business  has  a  young  player 


A    NINE  DAYS'    WONDER.  185 

to  insist  upon  people  listening  to  his  playing  who 
prefer  to  talk  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  he  feared  he  was  disturbing  them,"  she 
suggested  gravely. 

Mr.  Dow  laughed.  "  If  that 's  the  best  defence 
you  can  make  for  your  prote'ge',  I  think  our  opinions 
are  not  far  apart." 

"  Was  he  paid  to  play  ?  "  asked  the  Duchess. 

"  I  suppose  not ;  I  hear  that  he  won't  play  for 
money  in  salons." 

"  Then  he  was  a  guest,  and  entitled  to  equal  con- 
sideration with  any  other  guest." 

"  In  a  certain  sense,  yes ;  but  he  was  invited  to 
play." 

"And  he  was  amiable  enough  to  try.  Suppose  it 
had  been  my  sister  playing  a  violin,  would  those 
people  have  gone  on  talking  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not ;  but  that  would  have  been  quite 
different." 

"You  mean  that  she  is  an  aristocrat  and  Signer 
Veltri  is  merely  a  music-teacher. 

"  Well,  yes  ;  that  :s  about  it." 

"  He  holds  a  different  opinion  evidently,  and  took 
that  method  of  expressing  it.  I  think  he  was  quite 
right." 

"  Do  you  really  ?  " 

"  I  do,  indeed.  Signor  Veltri  is  a  gentleman  in  every 
fibre,  only  he  is  poor  and  not  high-born.  His  talent 
originally  won  him  an  introduction  into  some  houses 
where  he  soon  made  himself  welcome  as  a  gentleman, 
as  in  my  sister's  house  and  in  mine.  When  he  comes 
as  a  teacher  he  is  most  punctual  and  faithful ;  when 


186  AGATHA   PAGE. 

he  comes  as  a  guest  he  throws  away  the  teacher.  If 
he  is  invited  to  play  he  does  so  as  a  guest,  not  as  a 
professional  player,  and  if  that  fact  is  not  clearly 
recognized  he  emphasizes  it ;  and  I  say  again  he  is 
right." 

Her  auditor  regarded  her  with  genuine  surprise. 
"  Et  tu,  Brute !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  begin  to  believe 
that  the  Marchese's  democratic  sentiments  are  in- 
fectious, and  I  won't  deny  that  I  look  upon  them  as 
an  unfortunate  disease." 

They  did  not  continue  the  discussion,  but  on  his 
way  to  his  bachelor's  apartment  Mr.  Dow  carefully 
reviewed  the  Duchess's  words. 

"  It 's  all  very  well  for  people  in  her  position  to 
talk  so,"  he  muttered,  —  "she  can  afford  to;  but  all 
the  same  I  'm  not  sure,  if  she 's  ever  called  upon  to 
act  up  to  her  theory,  that  she  '11  stick  to  it.  It  makes 
a  mighty  difference  whether  one  sits  in  the  jury-box 
or  in  the  dock." 

The  apartment  of  the  Marquis  Loreno  was  admi- 
rably adapted  for  a  large  gathering. 

Upon  entering  it  the  night  of  the  reception  the 
guests  were  conducted  through  spacious  ante-rooms 
with  panelled  ceilings,  and  floors  of  polished  mar- 
ble strewn  with  Eastern  rugs,  to  a  large  hall  having 
three  doors,  two  of  which  led  to  dressing-rooms,  the 
third  —  a  wide  double  door  —  giving. entrance  to  the 
drawing-room.  Beyond  the  drawing-room  was  the 
ball-room,  in  the  balcony  of  which  the  musicians 
were  hidden  behind  a  mass  of  plants.  From  one  side 
of  this  immense  room  two  doors  led  to  a  refreshment- 


A   NINE  DAYS1    WONDER.  187 

room,  at  the  farther  end  of  which  was  a  conservatory. 
The  rooms  were  brilliant  with  lights  and  fragrant  with 
flowers.  Servants  in  bright  livery  performed  their 
part  of  the  pageant  with  appropriate  unction ;  and  the 
gay  uniforms  of  officers  and  the  court  dress  of  diplo- 
mats, mingled  with  the  dazzling  toilets  of  Rome's  fair- 
est women,  combined  to  make  a  scene  of  uncommon 
splendor.  Loreno  understood  well  how  sensitive  to 
dramatic  effect  his  countrymen  are,  and  he  used  this 
knowledge  skilfully. 

Agatha,  in  ivory  satin,  tall  and  lovely,  Mercede 
in  garnet  velvet,  dark  and  majestic,  stood  together 
before  a  superb  marble  figure  of  Destiny,  —  a  repro- 
duction of  the  work  which  had  won  Madame  Andre* 
fame.  It  was  the  figure  of  a  woman,  the  character  of 
whose  face  suggested  that  of  the  artist ;  but  its  lines 
were  broader,  and  the  expression  —  wonderfully  vivid 
—  was  that  of  a  sibyl  inspired.  The  draped  body, 
though  upright,  was  at  rest,  evidently  borne  onward 
by  myriads  of  angels  to  the  place  ordained  of  God.  A 
dark  plush  screen  threw  the  figure  into  strong  relief, 
and  covered  jets  of  gas  cast  a  mellow  light  upon  it. 

Its  effect  was  electric  upon  the  throng  of  guests  who 
pressed  forward  to  be  presented  to  the  celebrity. 

The  striking  beauty  of  the  Contessina  Ricci,  which 
Rome  had  remarked  so  well  during  the  winter  of  her 
de"but,  was  instantly  recognized  in  the  more  mature 
but  added  brilliancy  of  Madame  Andre*.  The  sur- 
prise was  complete,  the  method  dramatic. 

Mercede,  in  spite  of  her  apparent  self-possession, 
watched  anxiously  during  the  first  hour  for  indica- 
tions of  the  feeling  which  should  follow  that  of  sur- 


188  AGATHA  PAGE. 

prise.  She  noted  closely  the  character  of  the  glances 
directed  toward  her,  especially  those  of  the  women. 

In  the  mean  time  Loreno  busied  himself  on  all  sides 
helping  to  form  public  opinion.  He  varied  his  words 
to  suit  his  audience,  but  his  general  theme  was  regret 
that  so  great  an  artist  should  bestow  upon  the  French 
capital  the  lustre  of  her  name.  This  patriotic  senti- 
ment soon  impregnated  the  atmosphere,  sweeping 
before  it  all  social  misgiving ;  for  Rome,  like  the 
rest  of  the  world,  finds  it  easy  to  condone  the  do- 
mestic eccentricities  of  its  renowned  children ;  and 
Madame  Andre"  seemed  to  be,  and  was,  practically,  a 
different  person  from  the  tall  dark  girl  who  ran  away 
with  a  lieutenant.  If  she  had  now  run  away  from 
the  lieutenant  it  mattered  little  ;  her  success  justified 
her.  Such  genius  should  not  be  confined  to  the 
limited  span  of  a  soldier's  home.  The  Marchese  was 
right :  she  belonged  to  the  world,  and  the  world  had 
claimed  her;  now  if  Rome  could  content  her,  how 
fortunate  for  Rome. 

Thus  the  first  hour  established  her  position.  She 
felt  it,  she  saw.  it ;  and  as  one  after  another  pressed 
around  her  with  pleas  that  she  would  remain  among 
them,  she  recognized  the  guiding  hand,  and  her  grati- 
tude went  out  to  Loreno. 

Now,  too,  she  knew  why  he  had  urged  her  to  fin- 
ish the  statue  before  she  left  Paris:  it  was  for  this 
occasion,  this  hour  of  triumph  toward  which  her 
thoughts  had  turned  yearningly  for  many  years. 
She  was  excited,  happy,  exultant ;  and  as  Filippo 
joined  the  group  surrounding  her,  her  eyes  sought 
his  expressively. 


A   NINE  DAYS'    WONDER.  189 

"You  have  found  quite  as  many  old  friends  as 
new,  I  am  sure,"  he  said. 

"  Where  all  are  so  cordial,  it  is  difficult  to  dis- 
tinguish between  them." 

"  I  wish  you  could  have  heard  all  the  comments 
that  have  reached  me  about  the  statue." 

She  laughed  quietly  as  she  said,  "  I  think  I  have 
heard  more  than  is  good  for  me.  I  am  reminded  of 
what  Goethe  said,  —  that  one  never  does  a  good 
thing  but  his  friends  do  their  best  to  prevent  his 
doing  another." 

"  Is  your  enthusiasm  for  Goethe  as  ardent  as  it 
used  to  be?  " 

"  More  ardent.  I  find  him  the  most  sympathetic 
of  writers." 

Several  protests  arose  from  her  listeners,  who  ad- 
vanced the  claims  of  other  authors,  and  Loreno  took 
advantage  of  the  discussion  to  slip  away  to  Agatha, 
who  stood  near  by. 

"  Marchese  !  "  called  Mercede,  presently,  "  pray 
come  to  my  assistance.  These  friends  are  quoting  at 
me  in  all  languages  and  dialects." 

At  this  moment  Loreno  was  confronted  by  Mr.  Peter 
Dow,  who  apologized  copiously  for  his  late  arrival. 

Agatha  presented  him  to  Mercede,  upon  whom  he 
beamed  radiantly. 

"  I  am  not  strong  on  poetry,"  Loreno  remarked, 
"  but  my  friend  Mr.  Dow  is  an  authority.  I  commend 
him  as  a  valuable  ally ; "  and  turning  away,  he  again 
joined  his  wife. 

In  a  few  moments  exclamations  of  pleasure  from 
the  group  caused  them  to  turn. 


190  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  Marchese  —  Agatha,  dear !  "  Madame  Andre 
called,  "  you  must  hear  what  a  pretty  translation  one 
of  the  American  poets  has  made  to  Grossi's  words." 

As  Agatha  and  Filippo  joined  her,  she  turned  to 
Mr.  Do\v. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  "  we  must  repeat  our  recita- 
tions, but  a  little  differently  ;  I  '11  recite  one  verse 
at  a  time,  and  you  must  give  its  translation." 

And  thus  they  repeated  alternately  the  poem  of 
which  the  following  is  the  English  version. 

"  Swallow  from  beyond  the  sea, 
That  with  every  dawning  day, 

Sitting  on  the  balcony, 

Utterest  thy  plaintive  lay,  — 

What  is  that  thou  tellcst  me, 
Swallow  from  beyond  the  sea  ? 

"  Haply  thou  for  him  who  went 
From  thee,  and  forgot  his  mate, 

Dost  lament  to  my  lament, 
Widowed,  lonely,  desolate. 

Ever,  then,  lament  with  me, 
Swallow  from  beyond  the  sea ! 

"  Happier  yet  art  thou  than  I ; 

Thee  thy  trusty  wings  may  bear 
Over  lake  and  cliff  to  fly, 

Filling  witli  thy  cries  the  air,  — 
Calling  him  continually, 

Swallow  from  beyond  the  sea ! 

"  Could  I  too  !  but  I  must  pine 
In  this  dungeon  close  and  low, 

Where  the  sun  can  never  shine, 
Where  the  breeze  can  never  blow, 

Where  thy  voice  scarce  reaches  me,  . 
Swallow  from  beyond  the  sea  ! 


A   NINE  DAYS'    WONDER.  191 

"  Now  September  days  are  near, 

Thou  to  distant  lands  wilt  fly ; 
In  another  hemisphere 

Other  streams  shall  hear  thy  cry  ; 
Other  hills  shall  answer  thee, 

Swallow  from  beyond  the  sea ! 

"  Then  shall  I,  when  daylight  glows, 

Waking  to  the  sense  of  pain, 
Midst  the  wintry  frosts  and  snows, 

Think  I  hear  thy  notes  again, — 
Notes  that  seem  to  grieve  for  me, 

Swallow  from  beyond  the  sea  ! 

"Planted  here  upon  the  ground, 

Thou  shall  find  a  cross  in  spring ; 
There,  as  evening  gathers  round, 

Swallow,  come  and  rest  thy  wing. 
Chant  a  strain  of  peace  to  me, 

Swallow  from  beyond  the  sea  !  " 

"  What  a  charming  translation ! "  exclaimed  Loreno. 
"Whose  is  it?" 

"  It  was  made,"  Mr.  Dow  answered,  "  by  our  Amer- 
ican poet  Bryant." 

"  Indeed !  "  said  Agatha.  "  How  strange  that  I 
never  have  seen  it !  I  thought  my  edition  of  his 
poems  was  complete." 

"  I  think,"  was  the  answer,  "  that  it  is  not  in- 
cluded in  any  published  edition  of  Mr.  Bryant's 
works." 

"  Won't  you  write  the  translation  for  me  ?  "  urged 
Agatha. 

"  With  pleasure." 

Mr.  Dow  'was  elated.  He  felt  that  he  had  shone 
—  a  consciousness  tending  to  induce  good- will ;  es- 
pecially toward  that  fellow-creature  who  tilted  the 


192  AGATHA    PAGE. 

bushel.  Therefore  Mercede  had  bound  Mr.  Dow 
hand  and  foot,  so  far  as  his  social  disapproval  of 
*'  mere  artists  "  might  have  fallen  upon  her. 

"  I  'm  sure  you  must  be  tired,"  said  Agatha  to  her 
cousin.  "  Filippo,  won't  you  take  Mercede  to  get  a 
glass  of  wine  ?  " 

Thereupon  the  artist  slipped  her  hand  through  her 
host's  arm,  the  brilliant  throng  greeting  her  with  com- 
pliments and  smiles  as  she  passed  up  the  long  aisle 
made  for  her. 

Her  father,  who  was  talking  with  the  Duke  Faviola, 
caught  her  eye  as  she  passed,  and  smiled  fondly. 
She  paused  and  spoke  to  him,  and  he  presented  the 
Duke. 

"  We  have  already  been  introduced,"  Madame 
Andre  said.  "  Even  a  less  kind  hostess  than  Agatha 
would  scarcely  have  withheld  such  a  pleasure  from 
me." 

The  tall  Duke  merely  bowed. 

"  The  first  time  I  met  you,  Marchese,"  she  contin- 
ued, turning  to  Loreno,  "  you  had  just  come  from 
the  Duke's  villa.  I  remember  the  fact,  because  you 
spoke  so  often  of  the  Duke's  charming  home,  and  of 
your  little  niece."  She  turned  again  to  the  Duke: 
"  Is  your  daughter  here  to-night  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  she  has  just  gone  into  the  conservatory. 
She  has  been  dancing,  and  became  heated."  And  as 
he  spoke  of  Gaeta  his  manner  grew  less  frigid. 

Mercede,  perceiving  this,  followed  the  cue.  "  I 
wish  so  much  to  see  the  child,"  were'  her  words ; 
"  after  I  have  had  my  wine  you  must  take  me  to 
the  conservatory,  Marchese."  And  nodding  brightly 


A   NINE  DAYS'    WOXDER.  193 

to  her  father,  and  with  a  gracious  bow  to  the  Duke, 
she  wended  her  way  toward  the  supper-room. 

Ten  minutes  later  they  found  Gaeta  seated  upon 
a  low  settee  in  the  midst  of  orange-trees,  looking 
into  the  face  of  Signer  Veltri,  who  was  standing  be- 
fore her  talking  gayly.  Loreno  pointed  her  out. 

"  Who  is  her  companion  ?  "  asked  Mercede. 

"  A  musician  named  Veltri ;  he  is  her  piano- 
master." 

"  You  are  consistently  democratic; "  and  she  laughed 
quietly. 

"  If  you  please  ;  but  this  is  a  case  of  liking  a  man, 
and  regarding  myself  as  master  of  my  own  house." 

"It  must  make  some  of  your  guests  open  their 
eyes." 

"If  they  don't  like  it,  they  can  easily  open  my 
doors." 

Signor  Veltri  now  caught  sight  of  them.  "  Even 
the  guest  of  the  evening,"  he  exclaimed,  "  deigns  to 
follow  our  lead." 

"  It  is  a  most  fascinating  retreat,"  Mercede  re- 
joined, taking  for  granted  that  he  had  been  presented  ; 
"  but  I  have  really  come  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
Donna  Gaeta." 

"  Won't  you  sit  down  ?"  said  Gaeta,  primly.  Mer- 
cede took  the  proffered  place,  and  devoted  herself 
to  the  young  girl. 

Gaeta  was  a  wide-eyed  little  maiden  of  the  con- 
ventional Italian  type,  whose  chief  characteristic  was 
her  dignity.  She  was  self-conscious  on  the  present 
occasion,  feeling  the  necessity  of  not  betraying  the 
fact  that  this  was  her  first  ball. 

13 


194  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"Are  you  enjoying  yourself?"  asked  Loreno 
patronizingly,  when  a  pause  in  the  conversation 
occurred. 

"  Immensely ! " 

"  Is  the  music  good  —  I  mean  for  dancing  ?  " 
Madame  Andre  asked. 

"  Perfectly  splendid ! " 

"  And  the  floor  ?  "  added  Loreno. 

"  Divine!" 

"What  do  you  say  to  trying  it?"  he  suggested 
to  Mercede  ;  and  a  few  moments  later  they  were  glid- 
ing around  the  room  together.  As  the  excitement 
brought  a  rich  color  to  Madame  Andre's  cheeks, 
many  admiring  glances  were  bent  upon  her  brilliant 
beauty. 


CHAPTER   III. 

A  LITTLE  LEAVEN. 

WITHIN  a  few  weeks  Madame  Andre  was  firmly 
installed  as  a  resident  and  society  pet  of  Rome.  She 
hired  a  studio  in  a  villa  outside  the  Porta  del  Popolo, 
to  which  she  transferred  all  her  work  from  Paris. 
She  threw  this  studio  open  one  afternoon  of  each 
week,  and  her  receptions  became  a  marked  social 
feature  of  the  season.  Commissions  were  pressed 
upon  her,  but  success  did  not  affect  the  care  and 
thought  which  distinguished  her  work,  and  her 
artistic  growth  continued  to  be  remarkable. 

Although  she  seldom  paid  visits  during  the  hours 
of  daylight,  she  often  passed  the  evening  with  the 
Lorenos. 

It  was  during  one  of  these  informal  visits  that 
Agatha  broached  the  subject  of  one  of  her  charities. 
It  was  an  organization  following  the  general  lines  of 
the  Girls'  Friendly  Society,  of  London,  which  she 
sketched  briefly.  In  its  behalf  she  proposed  giving 
a  performance  of  Schumann's  "  Pilgrimage  of  the 
Rose,"  and  she  asked  Mercede  to  interest  herself 
in  its  success. 

"  I  like  the  musical  idea,"  was  Mercede's  reply, 
"but  choose  another  charit}'  for  its  object,  —  for 
example,  indigent  artists  or  art  students.  I  should 


196  AGATHA   PAGE. 

not  be  willing  to  give  my  time  or  name  to  aid  the 
charity  you  have  sketched." 

Then,  as  so  often  happens  with  ardent  natures,  her 
strength  of  conviction  overpowered  her  judgment, 
moving  her  so  greatly  that  she  dashed  on,  not  only 
impulsively  but  heedlessly.  Exuberance  of  feeling 
always  quickened  her  natural  tendency  to  extrava- 
gance of  expression,  and,  being  intolerant  of  any 
opposition,  when  she  was  opposed  in  some  pet  theory 
her  soul  verily  rose  in  arms.  At  such  times,  she 
would  rush  upon  her  opponent  with  an  impetuosity 
that  was  effective  solely  because  her  thrusts  were  so 
vigorous  that  mere  intellectual  fencing  (that  delight- 
ful exercise  of  one's  wits)  became  impossible,  and 
there  was  left  only  a  choice  between  earnest  conflict 
and  retreat.  And  thus  it  was  now. 

"What  is  it  you  propose  to  do?"  she  continued, 
—  "  encourage  purity  of  life,  dutifulness  to  parents, 
faithfulness  to  employers.  You  propose  eventually  — 
granting  that  your  plan  works  out  as  perfectly  as  the 
denouement  in  a  fairy  story  —  to  establish  a  lodging- 
house,  a  bureau  for  servants,  a  hospital  and  a  poor- 
house,  disguised  under  prettier  names,  an  emigration 
office,  and  a  reading-room,  —  all  good  things,  but 
plenty  of  them  are  already  established  and  crying 
for  patronage.  But  were  this  not  true,  —  and  I  see 
that  you  already  have  twenty  arguments  each  heavy 
enough  to  knock  my  poor  opinion  into  atoms,  —  I 
should  still  oppose  your  plan  upon  its  moral  theory. 
I  'm  opposed  to  women  banding  together  that  they 
may  lean  upon  one  another.  Women  are  feeble 
enough  now,  without  creating  a  hot-house  to  force 


A   LITTLE  LEAVEN.  197 

their  flabbiness.  What  they  need  is  to  accustom 
themselves  to  stand  firmly  on  their  own  feet,  be  it  a 
question  of  judgment,  will,  or  morals.  This  '  united 
we  stand,  divided  we  fall '  principle  for  women,  is  in 
my  opinion  as  pernicious  as  it  can  be." 

"When  you  wished  to  perfect  your  talent  for 
sculpture,"  Agatha  replied,  "'you  surrounded  your- 
self with  those  whose  aims  were  your  own ;  you 
placed  yourself  in  an  atmosphere  of  art.  But  this 
did  not  weaken  your  individuality.  This  did  not 
enervate  your  innate  strength.  And  so  with  these 
girls:  what  applied  to  you  artistically,  applies  to 
them  morally,  only  with  much  greater  force." 

Mercede  laughed  impatiently.  "  The  two  things 
cannot  be  compared,"  she  exclaimed,  "  and  I  am  sur- 
prised that  you  should  name  them  in  the  same 
breath.  My  art  was  a  jewel,  the  unsuspected  pos- 
session of  which  was  revealed  to  me.  I  could  not 
unlock  its  casket,  and  so  sought  some  one  who  could. 
But  virtue  is  a  vastty  different  thing.  All  women 
are  born  with  it,  as  with  stomachs ;  they  are  as 
familiar  with  the  penalty  of  trifling  with  the  one  as 
with  the  other.  We  all  sneer  at  Adam  for  saying, 
'  'T  was  the  woman,'  but  I  've  no  greater  patience 
with  women  who  snivel,  4'Twas  the  man.'  Why 
don't  you  start  an  anti-indigestion  society  ?  " 

"  Surely,  Mercede,"  and  Agatha's  voice  betrayed 
both  surprise  and  pain,  —  "  surety  you  are  not  serious 
in  regarding  this  grave  question  so  flippantly.  It 
is  n't  that  the  girls  don't  know,  but  that  they  are 
tempted.  As  the  Milanese  say,  — '  You  were  not 
born  with  your  eyes  shut ;'  and  you  have  now  been 


198  AGATHA   PAGE. 

in  Paris  for  six  years.  Have  you  seen  nothing  there 
but  what  is  faultless?  Have  you  learned  nothing 
of  the  world  ?  If  so,  ask  any  candid  man  if  such  a 
society  as  mine  would  be  useful." 

Mercede  shrugged  her  shoulders,  but  controlled 
any  other  evidence  of  irritation. 

"  I  'm  rather  too  busy  a  woman,"  she  laughed,  "  to 
take  my  lantern  and  go  in  search  of  an  honest  man. 
No  doubt  some  excellent  results  do  occasionally 
come  from  such  work,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  a 
woman  in  your  position  has  other  duties  quite  as 
important  in  the  social  economy." 

"I  think  most  of  us  can  make  time  for  social 
duties  as  well  as  for  graver  responsibilities,"  Agatha 
replied.  "  Yet  I  know  from  experience  that  one 
needs  to  be  watchful  to  keep  an  equitable  balance." 

"  I  'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,"  responded  Mer- 
cede with  emphasis,  "  for  you  are  altogether  too 
important  a  factor  of  this  indolent  Roman  society  to 
devote  too  much  of  your  energy  to  interests  outside 
of  Filippo's  career.  I  hear  all  sorts  of  prophecies  for 
him,  in  which,  naturally,  I  am  deeply  concerned. 
Nearly  all  the  old  giants  are  gone,  and  with  a  little 
patience  and  policy  his  place  seems  assured  ;  but  the 
social  lever  is  unquestionably  powerful,  and  should  not, 
of  course,  be  sacrificed  to  charitable  work  ;  above  all, 
his  own  interests  should  not  be  too  much  divided." 

"I  think,"  said  Agatha,  gravely,  "that  no  loving 
wife  would  be  likely  to  lose  sight  of  her  husband's 
future,  or  of  his  usefulness  to  his  country.  But, 
after  all,  there  are  certain  matters  which  each  wife 
must  determine  for  herself." 


A   LITTLE  LEAVEN.  199 

"  Oh,  of  course  !  "  and  both  relapsed  into  an  awk- 
ward silence  which  Agatha  broke  in  a  moment  by 
speaking  of  a  new  topic. 

As  Mercede  walked  home  she  had  a  feeling  of  dis- 
satisfaction. She  tried  to  throw  it  off  by  talking 
rapidly  to  Francesco ;  but  her  mind  was  like  quick- 
sand, —  the  more  a  fact  struggled  to  free  itself  the 
deeper  it  sank.  Upon  reaching  home  she  went  di- 
rectly to  her  room  and  threw  herself  into  a  chair. 

In  Paris  she  and  Loreno  had  become  fast  friends, 
for  in  addition  to  her  beauty  and  power  of  fascination, 
her  kinship  to  Agatha  had  appealed  strongly  to  the 
Marquis ;  and  as  it  was  his  nature  to  reveal  himself 
frankly,  if  at  all,  he  had  given  Mercede  every  oppor- 
tunity of  knowing  him  quickly.  She  speedily  dis- 
covered, of  course,  his  love  for  her  cousin,  and  this 
quickened  her  interest  in  him.  Her  own  affection  for 
Agatha  was  strong,  and  she  threw  herself  heart  and 
soul  into  the  union  of  these  two  lives  ;  the  romantic 
quality  of  her  nature  finding  courage  to  reassert  it- 
self in  connection  with  experiences  independent  of 
her  own  bruised  heart. 

Whenever  she  thought  of  returning  to  Rome,  she 
dwelt  eagerly  upon  the  almost  ideal  relation  which 
would  exist  between  the  Lorenos  and  herself.  Aga- 
tha would  be  even  closer  than  before,  while  Filippo 
would  be  as  a  brother  to  her. 

Agatha  was  glad  that  the  cousin  who  loved  her  so 
well  found  her  husband  sympathetic,  and  from  the 
day  of  Mercede's  arrival  she  had  done  what  she  could 
to  foster  the  cordial  relations  between  them.  In- 
deed, in  her  endeavor  to  demonstrate  her  idol's 


200  AGATHA   PAGE. 

superior  merits  and  peculiar  virtues,  she  gradually 
overcame  her  reluctance  to  betray  her  innermost  feel- 
ings to  any  other  than  her  husband,  and  in  moments 
of  special  confidence,  responding  to  Mercede's  eager 
interest  with  this  sacred  part  of  her  life,  she  joyfully 
poured  out  her  pure  passion.  But,  alas !  Mercede 
listened  as  did  the  rose  in  the  sweet  German  legend, 
bemoaning  the  fate  which  denied  her  such  joy. 
True,  she  had  known  marriage,  but  never  unity  like 
this.  She  listened  with  bated  breath  and  drank  in 
each  syllable,  coveting  such  sympathy  as  Agatha  told 
of,  and  longing  to  yield  the  same  worthy  adoration. 

"  For  wintry  bosoms  too, 
That  seem  of  hope  forsaken, 
At  thy  sweet  tones  awaken, 
And  dream  of  joy  anew." 

The  yearning  was  an  abstract  one.  Without  per- 
sonifying it,  she  loved  to  yield  to  its  fascination  ;  she 
bade  fair  to  become  its  slave.  Agatha,  having  no 
suspicion  of  this,  continued  to  feed  her  cousin's  eager 
interest,  through  gratitude  for  what  she  believed  to 
be  an  unselfish  sympathy. 

There  was,  however,  a  potent  factor  of  which 
neither  cousin  had  taken  account.  Human  nature 
sometimes  has  a  way  of  backing  and  shying  when  we 
would  guide  it  calmly ;  and  it  was  this  unhappy  fact 
that  was  partly  responsible  for  the  present  state  of 
Mercede's  mind  as  she  sat  in  her  room  and  pondered. 
She  had  been  conscious  for  some  time  of  a  feeling  of 
dissatisfaction  with  the  precise  relations  which  ex- 
isted between  herself  and  the  Lorenos. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A   TETE-A-TETE. 

SiGNOR  VELTRI  had  just  finished  giving  Gaeta  her 
music-lesson.  The  Duchess  was  usually  present 
during  this  hour,  but  to-day  she  had  been  summoned 
to  receive  visitors,  and  the  two  young  enthusiasts 
were  left  alone.  The  master  rose  promptly  as  the 
hour  expired  ;  but  Gaeta  with  one  query  and  another 
detained  him.  At  last  a  pause  ensued,  and  he  availed 
himself  of  it  to  bid  her  good-by. 

"  Why  do  you  hurry  ?  "  she  asked.  "  You  often 
remain  beyond  this  time." 

"  But  to-day  the  lesson  is  finished." 

"  So  it  is;  but  I  think  I  've  heard  you  say  that  you 
are  sometimes  glad  to  throw  aside  music." 

"  So  I  am,  Signorina." 

"  Then  why  not  sit  down  and  throw  it  aside  ?  " 

He  looked  into  the  bright  face  unmarked  by  a  line 
of  care,  and  seemed  tempted  to  yield. 

"  Come  !  "  she  urged,  "  treat  me  as  a  friend  for 
once,  and  forget  that  I  'm  your  stupid  pupil." 

"  I  think  I  had  better  go,"  he  replied,  "  for  after 
all,  I  am  only  your  music-teacher." 

"  You  are  our  friend,"  she  said. 

He  looked  at  her  steadily  as  the  color  left  his  face. 
"  I  am  not  unappreciative,  Signorina,  of  your  kind 


202  AGATHA   PAGE. 

disposition,  but  I  must  not  permit  myself  to  forget 
that  I  come  at  this  hour  in  a  professional  capacity." 

"  The  professional  hour  is  past." 

"  And  for  that  reason  I  should  go." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  and  she  smiled  and  tossed  her  head ; 
"  the  truth  is,  you  're  not  interested  in  what  I  have  to 
tell  you." 

"  To  tell  me  ?  "  and  his  brown  eyes  opened  wide. 

"  Yes  ;  I  'm  going  to  be  presented  at  Court." 

Instead  of  showing  the  interest  she  anticipated,  his 
face  fell. 

"  There  !  "  she  said  reproachfully,  "  you  don't  care 
a  button." 

"  Indeed,  I  do,"  he  replied  ;  "  but  —  " 

"But  what?" 

His  impulse  was  to  say,  "  You  will  then  be  in 
a  world  still  farther  from  mine  ;  "  his  spoken  words 
were  more  wisely  chosen. 

"  You  will  not  lose  a  lesson  for  this  reason,"  he 
said. 

Her  face  fell.  "  No,"  she  replied,  "  and  you 
wonder,  therefore,  why  I  bother  you  with  this  mere 
personal  affair.  Pray  don't  let  me  bore  you  any 
longer."  And  her  manner  was  magnificent. 

"  Don't  think  I  'm  not  interested,"  he  answered. 
"  It  is  an  important  step  in  your  life,  and  will  intro- 
duce you  into  still  another  social  world." 

"  I  suppose  it  will ; "  and  she  sighed  slightly. 

"  Are  your  social  burdens  already  so  heavy  that 
you  dread  this  addition  ?  "  he  asked,  smiling. 

"  I  don't  wish  to  be  presented,  if  that 's  what  you 
mean." 


A  T£TE-A-T£TE.  203 

"  No  ?  "  and  his  face  Lore  genuine  surprise. 

"  No;  I  only  do  it  to  please  mamma." 

He  stood  studying  her  face  silently  while  she 
dropped  her  eyes  and  toyed  with  her  rings  ;  then 
looking  up  suddenly  she  said,  "  Signor  Veltri,  you 
don't  understand  me  very  well.  I  'm  not  half  so 
fond  of  fashion  arid  society  as  you  think  I  am ;  but 
I  don't  care  !  "  she  added  rather  indefinitely. 

"  Surely,  Signorina,  it  is  no  disgrace  to  be  young 
and  to  enjoy  one's  self." 

"But  going  out  into  society  isn't  pleasant  unless 
one  meets  one's  friends." 

"  One  makes  friends  among  those  whom  one  meets 
in  society.  I  'in  sure  you  must  already  have  met 
some  charming  companions  of  your  own  rank,  and 
that  you  will  meet  inan}^  more  before  the  winter  is 
over." 

"  Perhaps  I  may,"  she  said  forlornly.  "  I  'm  sure 
I  hope  your  wish  may  come  true." 

This  way  of  putting  it  startled  him.  Did  he  wish 
that  she  might  meet  some  charming  young  nobleman 
who  would  lay  siege  to  her  heart  ? 

"  Good  afternoon,  Signorina,"  he  said  suddenly, 
"  I  must  indeed  be  going,"  and  without  further  cere- 
mony he  bowed  and  walked  toward  the  door. 

At  that  moment  it  opened,  and  Mr.  Dow's  smiling 
face  appeared.  He  held  out  his  hand  cordially  to  the 
musician,  for  since  the  "  swells,"  as  he  called  them, 
had  taken  to  petting  this  talented  youth,  Mr.  Dow 
had  not  only  ceased  to  oppose  him  socially,  but 
had  even  "  cultivated  "  him  a  little.  So  easily  is  the 
tender  heart  of  society  affected  by  a  good  example  ! 


204  AGATHA    PAGE. 

Signer  Veltri's  face  was  set,  however,  and  he  hur- 
ried past  the  effusive  visitor  as  quickly  as  he  could. 

"  I  heard  you  were  taking  your  lesson,"  said  Mr. 
Dow,  greeting  Gaeta  ;  "  your  mamma  has  friends,  and 
so  I  took  the  liberty  of  coming  in  here  to  wait  for 
her/' 

"Won't  you  sit  down?"  said  Gaeta,  rather 
formally. 

"  Your  master  seemed  in  a  hurry,"  continued  Mr. 
Dow,  who  never  quite  knew  how  to  talk  to  children 
or  young  girls  ;  "  and  how  solemn  he  was  !  " 

"  Was  he  ?  "  was  the  cold  answer. 

Mr.  Dow  felt  that  he  had  not  begun  well. 

"I  don't  suppose,"  he  said,  taking  another  tack, 
"  that  he  would  ever  be  cross  with  one  of  his  charm- 
ing pupils  ;  yet  it  should  n't  surprise  one  if  his  head 
were  a  little  turned." 

"  What  should  turn  it,  pray?" 

"  The  way  he  's  been  taken  up  by  people." 

Gaeta  folded  her  hands  in  her  lap,  and  leaning 
forward  gazed  squarely  into  her  companion's  face. 
"  Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  tell  me  what  you 
mean  ?  "  she  said  calmly. 

He  saw  that  her  calmness  was  only  superficial,  for 
her  color  grew  brilliant.  He  cudgelled  his  brains  to 
shape  a  course  that  might  please  her,  but  his  usual 
nirnbleness  and  certainty  in  arriving  at  a  conclusion 
deserted  him. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  say  a  word  which  should  reflect 
upon  Signor  Veltri,"  he  began;  "he  is,  so  far  as  I 
know,  a  most  deserving  young  man.  I  only  thought 
that  he  was  annoyed  at  something."  Then  shrewdly 


A  T£TE-A-TETE.  205 

noting  that  he  appeared  to  be  rubbing  her  electric 
temperament  the  right  way,  he  followed  the  clew. 

"  One  can't  help  being  interested  in  him,"  he  con- 
tinued ;  "  he  seems  so  frank  and  so  —  er  —  "  He 
hesitated,  disconcerted  by  this  mere  girl,  and  wished 
that  he  had  gone  directly  into  the  drawing-room, 
visitors  or  no  visitors. 

'•  So  what  ? "  asked  her  ladyship. 

"  Well  —  so  strange,"  he  faltered  ;  "in  spite  of  his 
position,  as  Lord  Byron  would  put  it, — 

'  Still  there  was  haughtiness  in  all  he  did.' " 

"In  other  words,"  said  Gaeta,  "he  respects  him- 
self, and  so  he  should.  If  you  happened  to  know 
as  much  about  Signor  Veltri  as  we  do,  you  would 
understand  him  better." 

"  Is  he  so  very  deep  ?  " 

"  I  know  nothing  about  that,  but  I  do  know  that 
he  has  true  manliness." 

He  could  scarcely  believe  his  ears.  He  thought 
that  this  young  girl  was  repeating,  parrot-like,  some 
cant  phrase  she  had  heard.  What  did  such  a  chit 
know  about  true  manliness?  For  Mr.  Dow  little 
suspected  the  penetration  and  soberness  of  judgment 
that  is  often  hidden  behind  the  smooth  brow  of 
girlhood. 

"  What  may  be  your  standard  of  '  true  manli- 
ness'?" and  Mr.  Dow  looked  at  her  quizzically. 

"  Self-respect  and  a  kind  heart,"  was  the  simple 
answer. 

"  Humph  !  and  has  our  friend  displayed  these  to 
you  ?  " 


206  AGATHA    PAGE. 

"No;  he  hasn't  displayed  them,  but  his  life  shows 
them." 

"  Indeed ! "  and  there  was  a  color  to  his  tone  that 
made  Gaeta  clench  her  small  hands  tighter. 

"  You  don't  like  Signer  Veltri,"  she  said  calmly, 
"  and  I  hope  you  won't  think  that  what  I  'm  going  to 
tell  you  is  told  on  his  account,  for  I  don't  think  he 
would  mind  what  any  one  said  who  knows  him  so 
slightly  as  you  do." 

"  Oh,  I  say !  "  ejaculated  the  discomfited  listener. 

"  But  I  'd  like  to  tell  you  something  about  him  for 
our  sakes  ;  for  we  don't  like  to  have  our  friends 
spoken  ill  of  in  this  house." 

"  But  you  entirely  misunderstand  me  !  "  Mr.  Dow 
declared. 

"  Won't  you  hear  me  first,  please  ?  "  and  she  in- 
clined slightly  her  proud  little  head  and  raised  her 
eyes  steadily  to  his.  He  was  quite  awed  by  this  rev- 
elation of  unsuspected  dignity,  and  leaning  back  in 
his  chair  waited  attentively  for  her  to  continue. 

"Signor  Veltri  is  the  youngest  of  five  children,  and 
when  he  was  six  years  old  his  father  died.  His  mother 
managed  to  get  food  for  her  family  and  to  educate 
them,  and  when  Signor  Veltri  was  fourteen  years  of 
age  he  showed  such  musical  talent  that  he  was  sent 
to  Naples.  After  studying  one  year  he  managed  (by 
teaching  for  one  lira  an  hour,  by  copying  music,  and 
playing  accompaniments  at  concerts)  to  support  him- 
self and  even  to  help  his  mother  a  little.  He  did  this 
for  four  years,  working  terribly ;  and  at  last  became 
a  little  known,  and  pla}red  solos  in  two  or  three  con- 
certs. A  French  Countess  who  heard  him  and  took 


A  T£TE-A-T£TE.  207 

a  great  interest  in  him,  persuaded  him  to  go  with  her 
to  France,  promising  him  no  end  of  pupils  and  concert 
engagements ;  even  inviting  him  to  be  her  guest.  He 
was  made  a  great  deal  of  by  her  and  her  friends,  but 
they  did  nothing  to  get  him  either  pupils  or  engage- 
ments, and  he  found  that  he  was  simply  the  lady's 
pet,  like  her  dog  or  her  saddle-horse ;  so  he  broke 
away  from  it  all,  and  taking  a  little  room  tried  to  sup- 
port himself.  But  the  French  don't  believe  much  in 
the  Italians  as  piano-masters,  and  he  nearly  starved. 
Then,  realizing  that  he  must  begin  to  work  upward 
if  he  was  ever  to  be  anybod}',  he  came  to  Rome  and 
decided  either  to  succeed  or  fail  right  here.  But 
the  Roman  school  of  music  is  all  Liszt,  while  he  had 
been  trained  in  the  Thalberg  school.  He  did  n't  care, 
however,  and  went  to  work,  and  a  very  hard  time  he 
had  until  the  summer  we  met  him  at  Lake  Como. 
You  remember  it,  for  you  were  there  too." 

Mr.  Dow  inclined  his  head. 

"  When  mamma  asked  him  his  terms,  he  said  five 
lire  an  hour ;  and  when  she  said  she  would  pay  him 
ten  lire  (the  same  she  had  paid  my  other  masters), 
he  would  n't  discuss  the  matter,  but  said  simply 
and  decidedly  that  his  price  was  five  lire  and  no 
more." 

"  But  he  charges  ten  now,"  interposed  Mr.  Dow. 

"  Yes ;  the  following  year  he  doubled  his  price : 
First,  because  he  wished  to  teach  fewer  hours  that  he 
might  practise  and  compose  ;  and  second,  because  he 
had  assumed  the  education  and  support  of  one  of  the 
children  of  his  eldest  brother,  who  is  very  poor.  And 
through  that  little  boy  we  learned  to  know  Signor 


208  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Veltri's  good  heart.  The  little  fellow  is  both  deaf 
and  dumb,  and  Signer  Veltri  put  him  in  a  school  for 
deaf-and-dumb  children,  where,  by  paying  well,  his 
nephew  is  made  very  comfortable.  Every  Saturday 
he  calls  for  the  child  and  takes  him  off  for  the  day, 
never  regretting  a  minute  of  the  time  it  costs  him. 
Sometimes  they  go  to  the  Villa  Borghese,  sometimes 
to  Frascati  or  Albano,  or  to  the  circus,  or  for  a  stroll 
or  drive  in  the  city  ;  and  Signer  Veltri  with  his  fingers 
explains  everything  to  the  poor  little  fellow.  My 
dear  lovely  Aunt  Agatha  often  invites  them  to  her 
home,  and  little  Gigi  passes  the  afternoon  playing  with 
my  cousins  Sebastiano  and  Teresina.  They  are  both 
younger  than  he ;  but  the  sensitive  child  is  glad  of 
that,  I  think,  for  he  feels  less  at  a  disadvantage. 
Signer  Veltri  is  always  near  him,  but  Aunt  Agatha, 
who  learned  the  finger  alphabet  from  Signer  Veltri, 
is  trying  to  teach  it  to  Sebastiano,  so  that  he  can  talk 
to  Gigi.  Gigi  has  a  real  talent  for  mathematics,  and 
now  Signor  Veltri  (so  he  confessed  to  Aunt  Agatha) 
is  saving  his  money  to  give  the  boy  a  thorough  edu- 
cation in  mathematics,  and  is  trying  to  interest  him 
in  astronomy.  Uncle  Filippo  has  promised  that  if 
Gigi  really  takes  to  it,  he  will,  in  time,  get  him  a 
good  position  under  a  friend  of  his  who  is  a  profes- 
sor. That's  how  the  matter  stands  at  present ;  and 
now  you  know  what  I  call  true  manliness." 

Peter  Dow  sat  silent  for  several  moments  with  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  stern  young  girl. 

"  Will  you  believe  me,"  he  said  presently,  .with  evi- 
dent sincerity,  "  when  I  tell  you  that  I  'm  thoroughly 
ashamed  of  myself?  And  I  apologize  humbly  for 


A  T£TE~A-T£TE.  209 

the  injustice  I  did  Signor  Veltri  —  whom  I  'm  proud 
to  know." 

The  haughty  expression  fled  from  Gaeta's  face  as 
mist  melts  before  sunshine. 

"I  do  believe  you !  "  she  exclaimed  heartily ;  "  and 
now  I  'm  glad  I  told  you." 

"  And  what  good  people  your  aunt  and  uncle  are ! " 
he  added. 

"  Aunt  Agatha  is  an  angel !  "  Gaeta  replied  enthu- 
siastically, "  and  she  's  just  the  woman  for  Uncle 
Filippo.  Mamma  said  the  other  day,"  she  added 
confidentially,  "  that  Uncle  Filippo  was  like  a  blooded 
race-horse  ;  if  he  had  n't  been  well  handled  he  would 
probably  have  bolted  the  course  and  wasted  all  his 
power." 

"  What  does  your  father  think  of  Signor  Veltri  ?  " 
Mr.  Dow  asked,  after  a  moment's  pause. 

"  Papa  admires  him  more  than  any  other  young 
man  he  knows  —  who  can't  hunt." 

Her  companion  laughed  heartily,  but  controlled 
himself  as  the  door  opened  and  the  Duchess  entered. 

"  I  heard  you  were  in  the  house,"  she  said,  giving 
the  visitor  her  hand,  "  and  I  pictured  you  here  lonely 
and  sad  ;  but  Gaeta  seems  to  have  kept  up  your 
spirits." 

"  Donna  Gaeta  has  been  most  interesting.  In- 
deed," he  added  significantly,  "  she  has  taught  me 
something." 

The  Duchess  turned  with  a  look  of  puzzled  inter- 
est toward  her  daughter,  who,  blushing  slightly,  re- 
peated the  Italian  proverb :  Sapia  piu  il  Papa  e  un 
contadino,  che  il  Papa  solo. 

H 


210  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"What  is  that?"  asked  Mr.  Dow;  "I  didn't 
catch  it." 

She  repeated  a  Venetian  proverb  which  says  that 
"  the  Pope  and  a  peasant  are  wiser  than  the  Pope 
alone." 

He  had  the  perception  to  see  that  Gaeta  wished 
to  avoid  disclosing  the  character  of  their  conversa- 
tion, and  he  won  her  silent  approval  by  aiding  and 
abetting  her. 


CHAPTER  V. 

SMOULDERING  FIKE. 

"  THAT  's  true  !  "  exclaimed  Mercede,  shutting  her 
book  vigorously. 

"  What 's  true  ?  "  asked  her  father,  looking  up 
from  his  newspaper. 

She  found  her  place  again.  "  This  is  Goethe's  idea 
of  a  model  wife :  '  A  wife  who  will  everywhere  co- 
operate with  him  [  her  husband] ;  who  will  everywhere 
prepare  his  way  for  him ;  whose  occupation  spreads 
itself  on  every  side,  while  his  must  travel  forward  on 
its  single  path.'  That 's  precisely  my  idea.  The  wo- 
man should  be  content  to  co-operate,  not  to  plunge 
ahead  on  her  own  career,  leaving  the  man  behind 
unless  he  chooses  to  grip  her  skirt  and  be  dragged 
after  her." 

"  That  is  almost  an  axiom." 

"  I  know  it ;  that 's  the  reason  I  'm  so  astonished 
when  women  fail  to  let  it  govern  them." 

The  General  kept  his  thoughts  to  himself. 

"  True,"  she  continued,  "  Goethe  says  a  woman 
should  prepare  the  way,  —  but  his  way,  not  hers  ;  and 
listen  to  this  :  '  And  where  is  there  any  station  higher 
than  the  ordering  of  the  house,  while  the  husband  .  .  . 
perhaps  takes  a  sliare  in  the  administration  of  the 


212  AGATHA   PAGE. 

\ 

State?  .  .  .  What  is  the  highest  happiness  of  us  mor- 
tals, if  not  ...  to  be  really  masters  of  the  means  con- 
ducive to  our  aims ;  and  where  should  or  can  our  first 
and  nearest  aims  be,  but  within  the  house  ?  '  "  and  the 
reader  laid  special  stress  upon  the  last  words.  "  '  It  is 
when  a  woman  has  gained  this  domestic  mastery  that 
she  truly  makes  the  husband,  whom  she  loves,  a  mas- 
ter. .  .  .  Thus  he  can  direct  his  mind  to  lofty  objects, 
and  if  fortune  favors,  he  may  act  in  the  State  the  same 
character  which  becomes  his  wife  so  well  at  home.' " 

She  closed  the  book  again  and  flung  it  upon  the 
table. 

"  Of  course,"  she  added,  "general  directions  don't 
apply  to  special  cases.  My  ca.se,  for  example,  is  a  fair 
exception.  I  have  a  career  as  natural  as  it  is  distinct. 
It  is  right,  then,  that  I  should  follow  it;  but  were  I 
an  ordinary  woman,  who  had  voluntarily  assumed  a 
position  which  carried  with  it  certain  domestic  and 
social  obligations,  I  should  n't  be  doing  right  if  I  sac- 
rificed everything,  or  at  least  made  everything  sub- 
ordinate, to  a  cause  consisting  of  a  servant's  agency 
and  a  cheap  pension,  some  flowers  in  a  pot  —  and 
Heaven  knows  what  else  ! "  and  sie  leaned  back  in 
her  chair  and  drummed  on  its  arms  nervously. 

"Heaven  does  know,  I  have  no  doubt,"  was  the 
calm  reply. 

Mercede  turned  quickly,  as  though  a  sharp  retort 
were  on  her  tongue  ;  but  as  she  looked  into  the  dear 
face  that  smiled  benignly  into  hers,  her  momentary 
excitement  was  allayed,  and  when  she  spoke  it  was 
gently. 

"  Of  course,  Papa,  I  don't  really  mean  to  belittle 


SMOULDERING  FIRE.  213 

Agatha's  work,  but  I  think  she  carries  it  too  far, 
and  my  anxiety  makes  me  a  little  bitter  against 
the  '  cause,'  as  she  calls  it,  for  which  so  much  is 
sacrificed." 

"  And  yet,  Mercede  mia,  what  is  sacrificed,  after 
all  ?  Some  social  bustle  and  possibly  Filippo's  more 
rapid  political  advancement.  Very  well !  In  the  first 
place,  they  entertain  occasionally,  and  do  it  more 
than  handsomely  ;  and  in  the  next  place  there  are 
many  men  competent  to  carry  on  the  public  work, 
but  few  able  men  who  are  unselfish  enough  to  devote 
themselves  to  the  less  brilliant  but  equally  important 
tasks  in  which  Filippo  is  engaged.  What  does  your 
poet  say  about  our  first  and  nearest  aims  ?  " 

"  Where  should  they  be,  but  within  the  house  ?  " 
she  replied. 

"  Precisely !  and  so  Filippo  is  doing  his  part  for 
Italy's  good  within  Italy." 

"•  But  think  of  the  career  he  may  be  sacrificing  for 
this  petty  work  !  " 

The  General's  face  wore  again  the  benign  expres- 
sion which  it  had  gained  rapidly  with  its  increasing 
marks  of  age. 

"  My  child,"  he  said,  "  when  a  man  of  my  age 
looks  back  upon  the  past,  his  chief  solace  for  many 
sins  of  omission  and  commission  is  found  in  what  he 
has  done  for  others,  not  for  himself.  Believe  me, 
the  memory  of  such  deeds  makes  the  softest  pillow 
on  which  an  old  man  can  lay  his  head  each  uncertain 
night." 

His  gentle  words  were  not  without  effect ;  but  as  she 
pondered  upon  the  undercurrent  of  indifference  to 


214  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Filippo's  career,  which  seemed  to  her  to  run  in  every 
mind  except  her  own,  she  felt  constrained  to  protest 
further. 

"  But  my  dear  Father,"  she  began,  "  a  statesman's 
career  redounds  not  only  to  his  own  glory  but  to  the 
benefit  of  his  whole  country  ;  and  do  you  believe  that 
such  work  as  that  of  Cavour  and  our  other  great 
statesmen  was  less  edifying  to  their  souls  than  that 
of  the  best  saint  whose  beneficence  ever  won  him 
a  place  in  the  calendar  ?  " 

The  blood  mantled  her  cheeks  and  her  eyes  grew 
bright,  while  her  voice  took  on  a  clear,  bell-like  qual- 
ity which  marked  it  when  her  blood  was  up ;  and,  as 
usual,  vigor  rather  than  fairness  distinguished  her 
argument  as  she  continued:  "  I  surely  believe,  if  you 
do  not,  that  Cavour's  brain  and  Victor  Emmanuel's 
sword  were  means  toward  a  righteous  end  quite 
equal  to  the  best  philanthropy  the  world  ever  saw. 
The  latter  has  its  place,  of  course  ;  but  I  think  it 's  a 
most  perverted  sentiment  that  would  exalt  the  phi- 
lanthropist above  the  others.  Soldiers  and  statesmen 
created  Italy,  soldiers  and  statesmen  must  guard  her ! 
If  they  do  not,  God  help  you  philanthropists;  for  you 
and  your  model  peasantry  will  be  shot,  your  incom- 
parable banks  will  be  plundered,  and  }^our  prize 
flower-pots  broken  by  a  less  sentimental  and  Utopian 
people." 

As  he  listened  the  old  soldier's  face  grew  black. 

"  You  go  too  far,  Mercede !  "  he  exclaimed  sternly. 
"You  know,  without  one  word  from  me,  that  I  am 
not  the  man  to  belittle  the  great  king  and  the  great 
statesman.  You  forget  that  you  speak  to  a  soldier, 


SMOULDERING  FIRE.  215 

and  to  one  who  was  made  a  general  upon  the  field  of 
battle  !  Let  me  tell  you  that  we  who  fought  for 
Italy  were  impelled  by  the  same  great  principles  that 
lead  Filippo  to  continue  the  work  our  swords  made 
possible.  Civilization  comes  not  by  war,  but  is  war's 
recompense.  Yet  while  I  would  make  swords  into 
ploughshares,  barracks  into  schoolhouses,  and  sol- 
diers into  husbandmen,  do  you  think  I  am  a  man  to 
be  lectured  upon  patriotism  ?  "  He  stopped,  and  ex- 
tending his  arm,  pointed  his  trembling  fingers  at  his 
sword  which  hung  over  the  mantel.  "  I  may  be  old," 
he  said  with  flashing  eye,  "  but  I  am  still  General 
Ricci,  and  with  that  sword  hanging  above  your  head, 
how  dare  you  speak  so  to  me  ! " 

Mercede  at  first  had  seemed  like  one  transfixed, 
but  as  he  continued  she  involuntarily  rose  to  her  feet 
and  moved  toward  him.  Now  throwing  herself  be- 
side the  chair  into  which  he  had  sunk,  she  clasped 
him  in  her  arms  with  surging  reflux  of  passion. 

"  Forgive  me  ! "  she  cried,  tearing  away  the  hand 
with  which  he  had  shaded  his  eyes.  "  Forgive  me, 
Father  !  " 

Self-willed,  unyielding  as  she  was,  she  had  done 
that  before  which  other  attributes  grow  numb  in 
women  of  her  race.  Kneeling  beside  the  silent  man, 
with  broken  voice  and  trembling  lip  she  humbly 
poured  forth  her  contrition,  nor  heeded  the  tears  that 
streamed  down  her  face  as  she  realized  that  she,  the 
daughter  of  an  Italian  patriot,  had  cast  a  slur  upon 
her  father's  patriotism. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  THE  VILLA   BORGHESE. 

AGATHA  was  in  her  element.  The  fine  green 
slopes  of  the  Villa  Borghese,  dotted  with  venerable 
trees,  lay  on  either  side  of  her,  and  she  was  in  the 
midst  of  a  party  of  children.  She  was  playing  a 
game  of  catch  with  them,  and  a  royal  romp  they 
were  having.  Presently  two  figures  were  seen  ap- 
proaching, and,  in  reply  to  a  shout  of  welcome  from 
the  children,  the  new-comers  waved  their  hats. 

"Who  will  get  to  Gigi  first?"  called  Agatha; 
whereupon  the  little  ones  scampered  off  to  greet  the 
boy,  who  leaving  his  uncle  ran  forward  to  meet 
them. 

It  needed  no  ears  to  understand  their  pleasure  at 
his  coming,  and  as  they  led  him  forward  chattering 
like  so  many  magpies,  the  red  lips  of  the  delighted 
mute  parted  and  exposed  his  glistening  teeth  as  he 
glanced  happily  from  one  to  the  other.  As  he  ap- 
proached Agatha  he  removed  his  hat  gallantly,  and, 
in  reply  to  a  few  movements  of  her  fingers,  his  big 
brown  eyes  grew  eloquent  with  gratitude  and  he 
respectfully  touched  her  hand  with  his  lips. 

Bending  down  she  kissed  him  and  turned  to  greet 
Signer  Veltri. 


IN  THE    VILLA  BORGHESE.  217 

"  You  got  my  message,  then  ?  "  she  said. 

"Yes,  thank  you;  and  Donna  Gaeta  is  coming 
presently  with  Mr.  Dow." 

"  Better  and  better !  we  '11  have  a  real  frolic." 
Then  she  explained  to  Gigi  what  the  children  were 
playing. 

He  nodded  with  a  quick,  bright  smile,  and  replied 
that  he  understood  the  game  perfectly.  So  presently 
the  fun  began  again,  Agatha  and  Signer  Veltri  en- 
tering into  its  spirit  quite  as  heartily  as  their  juniors. 
They  were  both  experienced  enough  to  know  that  un- 
less elders  play  with  their  whole  hearts  when  they 
join  a  circle  of  children,  they  had  much  better  hold 
aloof  altogether  —  for  how  astute  such  little  minds 
become  in  detecting  a  pious  fraud  !  Veltri  could 
remember  distinctly  the  time  when  his  efforts  to  imi- 
tate a  distant  locomotive  whistle  seemed  to  startle  his 
father,  who  always  awaited  this  signal  before  going 
to  the  adjacent  station ;  and  the  result  was  a  source 
of  great  glee  to  the  child  until  one  morning  his  father 
overacted  his  part,  and  the  sensitive  little  mind  felt 
the  ignominy  of  being  thus  trifled  with,  and  the  whis- 
tle was  never  repeated.  Therefore  he  now  used  all 
the  tact  he  possessed  to  appear  to  be  honestly  enjoy- 
ing the  sport ;  but  indeed,  when  it  was  his  turn  to 
catch  some  one  and  he  started  after  Agatha,  he  had 
need  of  his  best  effort,  for  she  raced  across  the  lawn 
like  a  sprinter,  darting  here  and  there,  doubling  and 
turning,  and  foiling  him  so  cleverly  that  the  children 
were  in  ecstasy.  But  suddenly  the  pursuer  turned 
and  dashed  at  the  youngsters,  and  then  with  re- 
doubled shouts  they  'scattered  in  every  direction  in  a 


218  AGATHA   PAGE. 

wild  panic.  Gigi  was  caught,  and  now  took  up  the 
task  his  uncle  had  surrendered.  Like  a  greyhound 
he  raced  after  the  fleet-footed  Marchesa,  accompanied 
by  the  renewed  excitement  of  his  companions,  until 
at  last  the  victory  was  his  and  Agatha  was  caught. 
Then  came  a  scamper  indeed,  and  the  approach  of 
Peter  Dow  and  Gaeta  was  unnoticed. 

"  What  a  race  you  and  Veltri  had ! "  Mr.  Dow 
exclaimed  as  Agatha  came  forward  to  greet  them, 
her  cheeks  glowing  and  her  eyes  sparkling.  "But 
don't  you  think  it  a  little  dangerous  to  make  a  habit 
of  exercising  so  violently  ?  " 

"  You  don't  suppose  that  Signor  Veltri  and  I  play 
this  game  whenever  we  meet,  do  you?"  s.he  responded 

gay!}'- 

"  But  I  do  really  think  that  you  ought  to  be  careful 
not  to  overdo  it,"  he  urged. 

"  Come  ;  join  in  !  "  she  commanded. 

"I?" 

"  Certainly !  " 

"  But  I  never  run." 

"Then  it  will  do  you  good.  Here,  Sebastiano, 
catch  Signor  Dow  I  Look  out !  "  she  called  to  that 
discomfited  gentleman,  who,  startled  into  his  boy- 
hood's instinct  of  self-preservation,  found  himself,  ere 
he  knew  it,  rushing  hither  and  thither,  hatless  and 
breathless,  his  eye-glass  bobbing  against  his  back- 
bone, and  his  long  legs  making  wondrous  play. 

"  Bravo  !  two  to  one  on  the  Phenomenon !  "  cried 
a  clear  voice  before  him,  as  he  stopped,  panting  but 
saved,  —  little  Sebastiano  being  yards  upon  yards  in 
the  rear. 


IN  THE   VILLA   BORGHESE.  219 

"  What  a  deer  you  are ! "  exclaimed  Madame  Andre", 
leaving  her  companion,  the  Duke  Faviola,  and  reach- 
ing behind  Mr.  Dow's  back  to  restore  his  eye-glass 
to  him. 

He  could  not  speak  without  breath,  and  therefore 
smiled,  wanly. 

"  Was  it  a  level  start,  or  a  handicap  ?  "  she  inquired 
earnestly. 

"  Whew!  "  was  the  only  sound  he  could  utter. 

"  Is  this  the  final  heat,  or  do  you  run  again?  "  and 
she  looked  up  at  him  most  seriously. 

"  Never !  "  he  gasped. 

"  I  did  n't  know  you  were  fond  of  athletics,"  said 
the  Duke,  cordially,  as  he  joined  them. 

"  I  'm  not ;  this  is  n't  a  habit,  it 's  an  accident." 

"  Then  it 's  the  second  lucky  accident  within  ten 
minutes,"  said  Mercede  ;  "  the  first  was  meeting  the 
Duke." 

Mr.  Dow  felt  foolish.  His  admiration  for  Madame 
Andre"  was  great,  and  he  flattered  himself  that  she 
always  treated  him  with  special  consideration.  Now, 
to  appear  before  her  in  this  aspect  annoyed,  even 
mortified  him,  for  he  was  sure  that  a  big  man  like 
himself  running  away  from  a  small  boy  like  Se- 
bastiano  must  have  appeared  ridiculous.  He  wished 
to  explain,  and  yet  feared  that  the  incident  would 
gather  importance  by  being  dwelt  upon.  There 
seemed  nothing  left  but  to  make  a  virtue  of  it. 

"  One  likes  to  help  the  little  ones  amuse  them- 
selves," he  suggested. 

"  It 's  only  a  prig  who  never  unbends  ; "  and  Mer- 
cede's  manner,  as  well  as  her  words,  greatly  restored 


220  AGATHA   PAGE. 

his  self-complacency.  "  Where  is  Filippo  ?  "  she 
added,  looking  around  the  group.  "  I  thought  that 
he  usually  came  with  the  children." 

"  Filippo  is  with  his  sister,"  answered  the  Duke. 
"  They  will  drive  here  later." 

"  Do  you  often  come  here  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Dow  of 
his  bronzed  companion. 

"  Occasionally ;  but  the  Campagna  and  the  sur- 
rounding hills  are  more  to  my  taste." 

"  Too  much  style  here,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing," 
and  Mr.  Dow  nodded  knowingly ;  "  I  understand. 
These  parks  are  not  bad  to  stretch  one's  legs  in ; 
but,  as  you  say,  there  's  too  much  style." 

"  That 's  precisely  what  I  come  for,"  the  bearded 
giant  replied  ;  "  otherwise  I  'd  always  go  to  the 
hills.  Sometimes  I  like  to  see  my  lady  friends, 
and  I  find  them  here,  well  dressed,  as  women  should 
be." 

"  Then  don't  look  at  me,  please,"  said  Mercede, 
44  for  I  've  just  come  from  the  studio ;  but  feast 
your  eyes  upon  Agatha.  Is  n't  that  a  lovely  cos- 
tume of  hers?  Who  would  think  that  it  disguises  a 
reformer?" 

They  had  been  approaching  Agatha,  and  she  turned 
as  she  heard  their  voices. 

"  The  Duke  is  admiring  your  costume,  Agatha 
dear,"  Mercede  exclaimed. 

"  I  hope  for  his  sake  that  he  is :  latest  from  Ma- 
dame Tua."  And  Agatha  turned  completely  around 
for  his  inspection. 

"I've  dressed  more  women  that  Mesdames  Tua 
and  Borla  .combined,"  the  Duke  replied,  smiling  in 


IN  THE    VILLA   BORGHESE.  221 

turn.  "  I  found  my  clients  universally  arrayed  in 
black,  and  apportioning  to  each  a  piece  of  every 
colored  stuff  I  had  with  me,  I  soon  brightened  things 
up.  I  was  also  court  jeweller,  and  bedecked  my  cus- 
tomers in  every  tint  and  variety  of  Venetian  beads, 
and  yards  upon  yards  of  Roman  pearls." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  the  lady  savages  of  New  Guinea  ! " 
laughed  Mercede. 

"  Precisely !  For  in  such  matters  the  Duchess 
and  Gaeta  despise  my  taste." 

"  Why,  papa !  "  called  Gaeta,  turning  from  Signor 
Veltri,  with  whom  she  had  been  speaking  rather 
apart,  "  you  know  that  we  agree  perfectly  in  some 
respects,  —  for  instance,  about  the  sticks." 

He  laughed  quietly.  "  Yes,  that  is  true ;  you 
never  admired  those  photographs  much,  did  you? 
The  ladies  there,"  he  explained,  "  distend  their  nos- 
trils with  sticks." 

The  children  now  began  to  protest  against  the  in- 
terruption ;  so  Agatha,  reinforced  by  Mercede  and  by 
the  Duke  (whose  reticence  and  shyness  disappeared 
in  the  company  of  children),  soon  had  them  hard  at 
play  again,  while  Mr.  Dow  looked  on  benignly,  and 
the  young  musician  and  his  pupil  again  sat  apart 
under  the  spreading  branches  of  a  fine  old  tree. 

"You  must  be  very  proud  of  your  father,"  said 
the  youth. 

"  I  am  ;  I  think  he  's  heavenly." 

Veltri  sighed  gently.  "A  woman  must  respect 
a  man  or  she  can't  really  care  for  him,  I  suppose." 

"  I  don't  know,  I  'm  sure,  how  it  is  with  other 
girls;  /  can't." 


222  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  I  suppose  not ; "  and  he  sank  into  an  abyss  of 
gloom. 

"  Yet  I  don't  know  that  I  ought  to  say  that,"  and 
she  became  very  judicial  of  manner,  "  for  I  do  know 
a  man  whom  I  don't  think  I  respect  so  very  much, 
and  yet  I  like  him  pretty  well." 

Veltri  winced  slightly.  "  I  suppose  I  know  to 
whom  you  refer." 

"  He  made  me  awfully  angry  the  other  night  after 
you  left,"  she  continued  confidentially,  "  and  I  just 
hated  him  ;  but  afterward  he  seemed  so  sorry  that  I 
liked  him  better  than  I  ever  had  at  all." 

Her  companion  brightened  as  she  spoke.  "  Oh, 
you  mean  Mr.  Dow !  " 

"  Yes." 

"  He  is  too  old  to  think  of  getting  married,  and  he 
is  fortunate." 

"  Do  you  think  so?" 

"  Yes ;  but  let  us  speak  of  something  more  in- 
teresting. You  are  too  young  to  think  of  such 
things." 

The  color  came  into  her  cheeks  and  she  was  evi- 
dently piqued. 

"  I  wish  you  could  get  the  idea  out  of  your  mind," 
she  said,  "  that  I  'm  an  infant.  I  hate  to  have  my 
youth  and  inexperience  thrown  at  me  as  though  I 
were  no  older  than  those  children.  Ever  since  I  can 
remember,  I  've  been'  told  that  I  was  too  young  to 
understand  first  this  thing  and  then  that  thing ;  and 
just  as  mamma  drops  the  words,  the  rest  of  the 
world  takes  them  up.  It's  annoying,  and  I  don't 
like  it!" 


/AT   THE    VILLA    BORGHESE.  223 

"  I  'ra  very  sorry.  You  must  know  that  I  would 
not  willingly  annoy  you." 

"  I  had  supposed  so  until  this  moment,"  she  re- 
plied haughtily. 

"  Perhaps  I  'd  better  go  and  look  after  Gigi,"  he 
suggested. 

"  As  you  choose  ;  but  I  don't  see  why  you  should  n't 
try  to  amuse  one  child  as  well  as  another." 

"  Don't  be  angry  with  me,"  he  pleaded ;  "  I  did  n't 
mean  any  offence.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  don't  enjoy 
talking  about  marriage,  because  —  well,  because  a 
poor  music-teacher  has  no  business  to  think  of  such 
things." 

"  Is  that  all  you  are  ?  "  she  demanded,  looking  him 
in  the  eye. 

"  Yes ;  at  least,  so  far  as  income  is  concerned." 

"  Is  that  all  you  intend  to  be  ? "  she  continued, 
with  the  same  full  gaze  upon  his  face. 

He  flushed  and  hesitated.  "  Frankly,  no  !  I  'm 
going  to  be  something  more." 

"  Then  don't  begin  by  sneering  at  yourself.  Your 
playing  and  teaching  are  very  convenient  rounds  in 
your  ladder,  but  I  don't  think  those  who  know  you 
mistake  them  for  rounds  in  a  treadmill." 

He  sat  for  several  minutes  silent. 

"  You  may  be  young,"  and  he  smiled  brightly  as 
he  spoke  the  offensive  words,  "  but  you  are  wiser  than 
I  am." 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  am  —  in  some  things,"  she  re- 
plied. 

So  engaged  were  they  with  each  other  that  neither 
saw  the  arrival  of  the  Duchess  and  Filippo,  and 


224  AGATHA   PAGE. 

they  turned  with  surprise  as  the  voice  of  the  Marquis 
greeted  them. 

"  Were  you  quarrelling  over  Wagner,  that  you 
looked  so  serious  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  over  his  successor,"  answered  Gaeta. 

"  And  pray,  who  is  he  to  be  ? "  inquired  her 
mother. 

"  We  wish  that  we  knew." 

"  There  seems  to  be  absolutely  no  one  to  take  his 
place,"  continued  the  Duchess,  musingly. 

"  At  present,  Mamma,  no,"  Gaeta  said ;  "  but  with 
time  '  the  mulberry-leaf  becomes  satin.' ' 

"  Ah !  "  and  the  clever  mother,  divining  the  drift 
of  her  child's  thought,  was  amused  at  her  girlish 
enthusiasm  for  her  master. 

But  the  Duchess  seldom  sneered,  and  besides,  had 
too  much  respect  for  the  young  musician  and  too 
much  consideration  for  her  darling's  feelings,  to 
wound  either  by  an  unnecessary  comment. 

"  What  a  good  time  the  children  are  having !  "  she 
said  ;  "  and  there  is  little  Gigi  too !  " 

They  followed  her  glance,  and  a  few  yards  away 
saw  the  child  and  the  Duke  rolling  round  stones  of 
the  size  of  cannon-balls  across  the  lawn, —  a  game 
Gigi  evidently  understood  well,  for  he  played  it 
skilfully. 

"  Come,"  said  the  Duchess ;  "  Gigi  deserves  an 
audience." 

As  they  skirted  the  lawn,  Mercede,  avowing  fa- 
tigue, slipped  away  from  the  children's  game  and 
seated  herself  upon  the  grass.  Looking  up,  she 
caught  the  eye  of  the  Duchess,  and  bowed.  Then 


IN  THE    VILLA   BORGHESE.  225 

her  eyes  sought  Filippo,  to  whom  she  nodded  famil- 
iarly, whereupon  he  joined  her,  and  was  soon  engaged 
in  a  refreshing  conversation.  With  Mercede  he  al- 
ways found  his  thoughts  led  away  from  the  subjects 
which  commonly  occupied  them  ;  and  although  her 
topics  were  not  noteworthy  in  themselves,  her  treat- 
ment of  them  always  interested  him.  Mercede's 
usual  mood  was  gay,  her  conversation  pithy  and 
strongly  colored,  and  he  regarded  less  the  under- 
lying thought  than  the  method  and  manner  of  her 
communication.  He  delighted  in  her  vivacity  and 
enjoyed  even  her  extravagance  of  expression,  while 
the  interest  she  appeared  to  feel  in  all  that  concerned 
Agatha  touched  him  deeply. 

"  No  one,  except  myself,  appreciates  Agatha  so 
thoroughly,"  he  often  said  to  himself.  "  It 's  a  pity 
that  Mercede  thinks  Agatha's  feeling  is  less  ardent 
than  her  own.  But  I  don't  see  what  more  she  can 
want,  for  Agatha  treats  her  as  a  sister ;  yet  even  this 
does  n't  seem  to  satisfy  her.  Upon  my  word,  it 
sometimes  seems  as  though  she  aspired  to  share  my 
place  in  Agatha's  heart." 

He  smiled  complacently  at  the  idea,  and  set  it  down 
as  evidence  of  his  wife's  charm  and  of  Mercede's 
lo}ral,  warm  nature.  Nor  was  he  mistaken  in  the  in- 
tensity of  her  feeling.  Its  source  may  not  have  been 
as  pure  as  he  thought,  but  its  existence  was  none  the 
less  a  fact. 

Mercede  brooded  constantly  over  her  yearning  to 
become  identified  with  the  innermost  life  of  Loreno 
and  his  wife,  and  the  more  she  dwelt  upon  this 
desire,  the  less  bearable  became  the  thought  of 

15 


226  AGATHA   PAGE. 

disappointment.  Her  imperious  will  would  not  be 
reconciled  to  a  sphere  which,  although  intrinsically 
exalted,  was  inferior  to  that  which  she  coveted.  As 
the  object  subserved  by  her  artistic  ambition  ap- 
proached realization,  this  new  object  gained  impor- 
tance. She  brooded  upon  it  until  she  became  morbid 
concerning  it ;  it  grew  to  be  a  necessity  in  her  life. 
In  art  or  society  there  was  no  door  closed  to  her. 
Determination  had  accomplished  this ;  and  the  same 
force,  intensified  by  the  closer  relation  which  the  new 
purpose  bore  to  her  inner  life,  was  concentrated  upon 
this  yearning,  the  gratification  of  which  she  now 
deemed  essential  to  her  complete  happiness. 

Thus,  in  the  graphic  words  of  a  proverb  of  her  own 
country,  as  "  eaten  bread  is  soon  forgotten,"  her  suc- 
cess in  breaking  through  the  social  and  art  barriers 
that  blocked  her  impetuous  course  now  lost  their 
power  of  satisfying  her,  and  she  }rearned  for  some- 
thing more  to  fill  her  life,  —  something  which  should 
satisfy  the  longing  of  her  humanity ;  something  more 
restful,  if  not  more  masterful,  than  her  art.  She  did 
not  propose  to  rob,  but  to  share.  She  believed  that 
she  could  enrich  the  life  of  the  Lorenos  quite  as  much 
as  they  could  enrich  hers.  She  would  not,  she  could 
not,  realize  that  they  were  sufficient  for  each  other 
when  they  were  necessary  to  her.  All  that  was  in 
her,  all  that  belonged  to  her,  she  consecrated  to  the 
fulfilment  of  her  object.  Did  she  recognize  the  truth? 
At  this  time,  no.  She  desired  to  be  the  confidante  of 
both  Agatha  and  Filippo  ;  to  join  forces  with  them 
both  ;  to  form,  as  it  were,  a  triple  alliance.  wYet  here 
was  the  rub  ;  for  she  believed  that  to  women  as  a 


IN  THE    VILLA   BOEGHESE.  227 

class  friendship  is  a  thing  as  colorless  as  the  perfume 
upon  their  handkerchiefs  ;  that  they  know  as  little  of 
the  true  glory  of  that  affinity  of  which  Goethe  wrote 
as  they  do  of  the  possibilities  of  political  science. 

While  she  did  not  question  the  sincerity  of 
Agatha's  affection  for  her,  she  began  to  fear  that 
her  cousin  might  not  be  able  to  emancipate  herself 
from  the  limitations  common  to  her  sex,  and,  putting 
aside  petty  jealousy  and  wifely  selfishness,  rise  to 
such  a  conception  of  friendship  as  that  which  Mer- 
cedo  herself  claimed  to  have,  and  which  she  believed 
Filippo  to  possess.  She  did  not  base  her  opinion  of 
Filippo's  friendship  upon  his  responsiveness  alone, 
for,  with  blind  inconsistency,  while  resenting  deeply 
Agatha's  gentle  opposition,  Mercede  gloried  in  the 
frankness  with  which  Loreno  sometimes  opposed  her 
when  he  believed  her  to  be  in  error,  either  of  opinion 
or  action.  This  was  also  Goethe's  idea  of  a  friend. 
No  one  but  Loreno  dared  beard  the  lioness  in  her 
den  ;  but  he  seemed  to  have  no  thought  of  fear.  He 
opposed  Mercede's  views  quite  as  frankly  as  he  did 
those  of  Agatha.  With  every  one  save  Loreno,  Mer- 
cede assumed  the  initiative  ;  him  she  seemed  willing 
to  follow.  Had  she  not  been  so  inclined,  the  result 
would  have  been  interesting,  for  he  would  have  gone 
on  in  his  own  way  just  the  same,  there  being  but  one 
person  on  earth  whom  this  young  Marquis  suffered  to 
lead  him,  that  person  being  Agatha.  Yet,  so  strange 
is  life,  Mercede  felt  that  in  either  judgment  or  power 
of  will  Agatha  was  a  mere  child  in  her  presence.  For 
this  reason,  although  exasperated  by  her  cousin's  unde- 
fined but  firm  method  of  keeping  the  vantage-ground 


228  AGATHA   PAGE. 

of  her  husband  and  herself  sacred  to  themselves, 
she  had  no  doubt  that  in  the  end  her  desire  would 
be  accomplished.  Nevertheless,  it  was  rather  a  hurt 
to  the  pride  of  a  woman  so  courted  as  she,  to  have 
even  a  small  part  of  her  friendship  repelled.  Had 
Mercede  permitted  herself  to  examine  the  facts  coldly 
and  judicially,  she  would  probably  have  recognized 
the  plain  fact  that  her  desire  to  occupy  a  relation 
toward  Agatha  closer  than  that  of  a  sister  would 
scarcely  have  been  so  keen  had  her  cousin  been 
unmarried.  But  her  wilfulness  was  too  great  to 
permit  her  to  stop  and  dissect  her  motives.  If  any 
suspicion  of  the  truth  ever  perplexed  her  mind, 
she  dashed  it  from  her  with  an  indignant  disclaimer, 
prompted,  she  assured  herself,  by  shame  at  having 
tainted  the  purity  of  friendship  with  an  unworthy 
suspicion.  Thus  we  ofttimes  juggle  with  the  truth 
as  Hamlet  juggled  with  the  cloud,  and  our  servile 
reason  is  as  eager  in  agreement  —  and  about  as  sin- 
cere —  as  was  that  other  courtier,  Polonius. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SOME  PASSING  FACTS. 

AKISTOCRATIC  Rome  was  gathered  at  a  ball  in 
the  palace  of  the  Spanish  Embassy.  Loreno  and 
Mercede  had  been  dancing  together,  and  the  latter, 
complaining  of  the  excessive  heat,  asked  if  they  could 
not  get  out  of  the  crowd  for  a  few  moments.  Filippo 
thereupon  led  her  to  an  anteroom,  in  a  recess  of 
which  they  seated  themselves. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  get  away  from  it,"  said  Filippo, 
glancing  back  at  the  room  they  had  left. 

"  You  don't  seem  quite  yourself  to-night;"  and  his 
companion  looked  at  him  anxiousl}'. 

"  I  'm  a  little  tired." 

Her  eyes  closed  slightly,  and  she  tapped  her  foot 
impatiently. 

"  That 's  not  unnatural,"  she  said.  "  Your  parlia- 
mentary work  is  enough  for  one  man,  and  you  add  to 
it  half  a  dozen  charities,  not  to  mention  your  social 
duties." 

*'  The  charities  count  for  very  little,  and,"  he 
added,  laughing  quietly,  "  the  social  duties  for  even 
less." 

"  But,  Filippo," — she  leaned  forward  and  gazed  into 
his  face  earnestly,  — "  don't  you  know  that  you  are 


230  AGATHA   PAGE. 

burning  the  candle  at  both  ends  ?  You  should  take 
more  exercise,  and  of  a  sort  that  will  help  you  to 
forget  your  work." 

"  But  I  do  exercise." 

"  You  walk  to  Parliament  and  home  again,  —  less 
than  ten  minutes  each  way.  You  should  be  in  the 
fresh  air  at  least  two  hours  every  day." 

" '  Two  hours ' !    Where  are  they  to  come  from  ?  " 

"  From  whatever  you  do  outside  of  Parliament." 

"  Impossible !  Before  Parliament  I  arrange  the 
accounts  of  Agatha's  new  society ;  and  after  I  leave 
the  House  I  join  her,  wherever  she  is,  help  her  for 
an  hour  or  so,  and  then  bring  her  home." 

"It's  all  very  ideal  and  commendable,  and  I 
shouldn't  like  to  interfere  with  it;  but  you  must 
manage  somehow  to  get  more  air  and  exercise,  or  }ou 
will  break  down." 

"  But  how  am  I  to  do  it  ?  I  can't  neglect  my  par- 
liamentary duties  unless  I  resign  altogether;  and  I 
have  told  you  how  the  rest  of  the  day  is  filled." 

"  Can't  you  take  exercise  in  the  morning  and  do 
your  accounts  in  the  evening  ?  " 

"  On  many  evenings,  yes  ;  but  I  cannot  rely  upon 
them.  The  evening  is  my  time  for  social  duties  and 
of  preparation  for  my  public  work." 

"  You  can  if  you  will  only  make  up  your  mind  to 
it.  Won't  you  try  ?  " 

"  I  won't  promise." 

"I  think  you  are  positively  unkind !  If  you  haven't 
any  regard  for  yourself,  you  might  have  for  your 
friends." 

"  There  is  no  reason  for  anxiety  about  me.     I  feel 


SOME  PASSING  FACTS.  231 

splendidly,  as  a  rule,  and  when  Parliament  is  not  in  ses- 
sion I  have  many  hours  in  the  air.  Only  to-day  Agatha 
tried  to  make  me  promise  to  drive  or  walk  with  her 
three  times  a  week,  and  I  refused  on  the  ground  that 
I  don't  need  it.  Here  she  is  now,"  he  said,  as  he 
saw  his  wife  approaching  on  the  arm  of  Mr.  Dow. 
"  You  and  she  can  console  each  other." 

"  No,  not  now,"  she  replied  in  an  undertone. 

"  Come,  Filippo,"  said  Agatha,  "  I  want  a  waltz 
with  you." 

Mercede's  mouth  grew  serious,  and  she  hastily  ad- 
dressed Mr.  Dow,  but  she  did  not  fail  to  notice  the 
alacrity  with  which  Filippo  .arose  in  spite  of  his 
fatigue. 

"  I  'm  invited  to  waltz,"  he  said  to  Mercede,  nod- 
ding familiarly  as  he  moved  away. 

"  Then  I  '11  say  good-night ;  I  'm  going  in  a  few  mo- 
ments," she  called  quickly,  scarcely  knowing  why. 

"  Going,  so  early !  "  and  he  turned  with  surprise. 

"Yes,  I'm  tired  ;  and  the  swing  of  the  affair  does  n't 
catch  me." 

"  Then  jump  into  it,"  suggested  Mr.  Dow,  practi- 
cally. "  Begin  by  giving  me  a  waltz." 

Her  plan  changed  as  quickly  as  it  had  been  con- 
ceived. 

"  With  pleasure,"  she  said,  rising. 

Half  an  hour  later  Filippo  found  that  her  dancing- 
card  was  filled.  He  was  surprised  at  this,  for  she 
usually  declined  to  engage  herself  ahead,  avowing 
frankly  that  she  disliked  to  be  compelled  to  dance 
whether  she  would  or  no.  He  complained  good- 
naturedly  at  her  not  reserving  another  waltz  for 


232  AGATHA  PAGE. 

him  ;  to  which  she  replied  suavely  that  in  future  she 
would  engage  herself  conditionally. 

Mr.  Dow,  who  was  hovering  near  her,  chuckled 
with  amusement,  and  as  usual  drew  his  own  conclu- 
sion. As  her  partner  was  a  little  tardy  Mr.  Do\v 
joined  her. 

"  That  was  a  delicious  answer  you  gave  the  Mar- 
quis," he  said. 

"Yes?  It  was  accidental  then.  But  I 'm  opposed 
to  nepotism  on  principle." 

"  Well,  the  Marquis  does  n't  seem  to  be.  There 
he  goes,  dancing  with  his  wife  again.  That 's  the 
third  time  this  evening." 

"  Why  not  leave  the  acts  of  the  Marquis  to  the 
recording  angel  ?  "  she  said  haughtily.  "  You  would 
entertain  me  better  by  telling  me  what  you  are  smil- 
ing at." 

He  smiled  more  broadly  than  ever. 

"  A  little  verse  occurred  to  me  that  I  saw  in  a 
magazine  the  other  day :  it  seems  to  fit  the  Mar- 
quis." 

"Indeed!     What  is  it?" 

"  It  is  called  *  Moderation,'  and  runs  as  follows  :  — 

'  I  ask  not,  oh  my  God,  for  worldly  fame, 
For  love,  for  fortune,  for  the  thousand  things 
My  neighbors'  restless  prayers  forever  claim, 
Vexing  thine  ear  with  vain  importunings. 
All  these  may  pass,  nor  will  they  pass  lamented  ; 
Give  me  the  moon,  and  I  will  rest  contented.' " 

Mercede  laughed  lightly.  "  It 's  not  inapplicable,  is 
it  ?  "  she  said. 

"  No,"  he  replied,  with  keen  appreciation  of  his 


SOME  PASSING  FACTS.  233 

humor.  "  For  if  he  took  a  fancy  to  the  moon  he 
would  n't  hesitate  to  ask  for  it." 

"  There  is  certainly  but  little  left  on  earth  that  the 
Marquis  has  need  to  ask  for,"  she  said  proudly. 

Mr.  Dow  was  bewildered,  and  wondered  if  she 
quite  knew  which  side  she  was  on ;  but  that  was  be- 
cause Mr.  Dow  did  not  comprehend  very  well  the 
feminine  nature.  It  never  entered  his  mind  that 
Mercede's  momentary  and  distinctly  personal  irrita- 
tion would  not  give  warrant  to  another's  criticism. 
He  was  too  blind  to  read  the  heart  she  had  unguard- 
edly laid  bare  to  him,  although  even  a  moderately 
clever  woman  would  have  comprehended  her  feeling 
instantly.  What  we  call  "  woman's  intuition "  is 
often  logical  although  rapid  deduction,  and  while  her 
quickness  may  be  surprising,  our  dulness  is  more 
so.  No  doubt  she  is  prone  to  wonderful  impressions, 
to  which  she  commonly  hangs  with  grim  faith  ;  but 
every  mystery  is  not  a  miracle. 

As  they  stood  silent,  looking  at  the  dancers,  Agatha 
again  glided  past,  guided  by  the  Duke  Faviola. 

"  I  did  n't  know  the  Duke  ever  danced,"  Mr.  Dow 
remarked. 

"  I  have  seen  him  dance  occasionally,"  was  the 
reply.  "  He  understands  the  arts  of  civilization, 
even  if  he  does  n't  always  practise  them." 

Her  companion  turned  with  genuine  surprise. 

"  It  was  a  rude  remark,"  she  said,  meeting  his  eye, 
"  but  I  'm  a  little  cross  to-night ;  don't  think  of  it 
again." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Duke  was  one  of  the  few- 
men  of  Mercede's  acquaintance  who  seemed  imper- 


234  AGATHA   PAGE. 

vious  to  her  charm.  She  had  exerted  all  her  power 
of  fascination  upon  him  in  vain.  He  remained  always 
sedate  and  unresponsive,  although  so  perfectly  cour- 
teous that  she  could  find  no  just  cause  of  complaint 
against  him.  But  with  Agatha  his  manner  was  quite 
different:  he  sought  her  society,  he  laughed  with  her 
frankly,  and  seemed  to  find  his  tongue  readily  enough. 
What  occasioned  this  marked  difference  in  his  treat- 
ment of  Agatha  and  herself  Mercede  could  not  fathom, 
and  she  was  tired  of  trying.  Yet  it  was  mortifying,  and 
it  rankled.  She  had  been  too  proud  heretofore  to  resent 
the  fact,  and  was  vexed  at  her  present  indiscretion. 

A  few  evenings  later,  while  Filippo  was  calling 
upon  the  General  and  Mercede,  a  visitor's  card  was 
presented,  and  Mercede,  pleading  a  headache,  re- 
quested her  father  to  excuse  her.  Then,  turning  at 
the  door,  she  suggested  that  Filippo  should  entertain 
her  until  the  visitor  departed. 

He  promptly  followed  her  to  a  sitting-room  where 
she  had  sometimes  received  him. 

"  Have  you  thought  over  my  suggestion  at  the 
ball  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  Well,  I  confess  it  has  n't  disturbed  my  dreams." 

"  I  've  a  new  and  brilliant  idea,"  and  she  paused  to 
impress  him  duly.  "  I  have  not  been  practising  what 
I  preach,  and  my  sins  of  omission  have  begun  to  bear 
fruit.  So  I  consulted  Dr.  Maretti  this  morning,  and 
he  says  I  must  ride  for  at  least  an  hour  every  day. 
Now,  I  propose  that  we  encourage  each  other  by  good 
example,  and  at  the  same  time  avoid  the  monotony 
of  exercising  alone.  Come,  ride  with  me;  it's  the 
very  thing  you  need." 


SOME  PASSING  FACTS.  235 

Loreno  had  been  fond  of  the  saddle  before  his 
marriage,  but  as  other  occupations  claimed  his  time 
he  gradually  gave  up  riding.  Mercede's  proposition 
was  tempting,  and  forgetful  for  the  moment  of  his 
excuses  to  Agatha,  he  embraced  it  with  characteristic 
enthusiasm. 

"  Do  you  propose  to  ride  in  the  morning,  or  after- 
noon ?  "  he  asked. 

"  In  the  morning,  early,  if  you  don't  mind." 

"  Not  in  the  least." 

"  About  eight  ?  " 

"  Very  well." 

Mercede  hesitated  a  little.  "  I  don't  suppose  Aga- 
tha will  object,"  she  said. 

"Why  should  she?" 

"  She  should  n't ;  but  I  did  n't  know." 

"  What  a  strange  idea  !  I  sha'  n't  disturb  her  in 
the  morning." 

"  Oh,  very  well ;  then  we  will  call  it  settled.  And 
now,  how  about  my  horse?  Will  you  help  me  to 
find  one?" 

"  Why  not  use  one  of  mine  ?  I  've  one  that  a  lady 
can  ride." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  but  I  want  a  horse  of  my 
own." 

"  Well,  use  mine  until  you  find  one  that  pleases 
you." 

"  Thank  you  very  much ;  I  '11  think  it  over,  and 
tell  you  to-morrow  if  you  will  meet  me  as  I  leave  the 
studio  at  five.  I  'm  going  to  walk  home  every  night — 
for  exercise." 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  must  deny  myself  that  pleasure  :  I 


236  AGATHA   PAGE. 

really  can't  spare  the  time ;  but  use  one  of  my  horses, 
and  let  us  begin  to-morrow  morning." 

"  I  can't  possibly  ;  I  haven't  my  habit  yet." 

"  When  will  you  have  it?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  exactly  ;  but  drop  in  on  Thursday 
evening.  I  think  I  shall  know  by  that  time." 

Agatha  did  not  receive  the  suggestion  with  the 
unreserved  pleasure  Filippo  had  hoped  for.  She  was 
hurt  that  after  refusing  all  her  proposals  looking  to 
the  same  end,  he  should  so  quickly  and  complacently 
adopt  Mercede's  plan,  and  not  even  suggest  that  she 
should  join  in  it. 

He  was  not  without  consciousness  of  his  inconsist- 
ency, but  excused  it  on  the  ground  that  Agatha  had 
never  proposed  a  plan  which,  like  this  one,  should 
not  interfere  with  his  regular  occupations ;  and  as  for 
not  including  her  in  it,  he  would  do  so,  of  course,  as 
soon  as  Mercede  found  a  horse.  He  had  but  one 
that  a  lady  could  ride. 

"  I  thought  you  would  be  glad,"  he  said  gloomily. 

"  I  am'glad  ;  I  'm  really  very  glad  that  you  will  get 
the  exercise." 

"  Then  why  are  you  so  solemn  about  it  ?  " 

"I  don't  intend   to  be  solemn.      I'm  sure  I've 
urged  you  often  enough  to  get  more  fresh  air." 
•  "  Your  approval  seems  rather  reluctant." 

Turning  away,  he  went  to  his  desk  and  busied  him- 
self with  some  letters  until  Agatha  left  the  room. 
Then  he  brushed  them  aside  and  sat  thinking. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SHADOWS. 

THE  experiment  of  riding  proved  to  be  a  success, 
and  morning  after  morning  Loreno  and  Mercede 
dashed  over  the  Campagna  for  about  two  hours. 
Their  intimacy  could  scarcely  fail  to  grow  rapidly 
under  such  favorable  conditions,  and  at  the  end  of 
a  few  weeks  they  both  looked  forward  eagerly  to  the 
morning  ride,  and  late  hours  at  night  never  prevented 
them  from  meeting  promptly  in  the  morning. 

The  genuine  light-heartedness  which  Mercede  felt 
in  Filippo's  society  made  her  a  most  charming  com- 
panion ;  and  as  she  rode  well  (the  lieutenant  having 
early  taught  her  to  be  an  excellent  horsewoman), 
Loreno  invariably  found  the  keenest  enjoyment  in 
her  companionship. 

On  her  side,  Mercede  found  in  Filippo  a  companion 
far  more  sympathetic  than  any  she  had  before  known. 
His  directness  of  method  responded  to  her  wilful- 
ness,  his  breadth  of  judgment  challenged  her  respect, 
while  his  genuineness  commanded  her  confidence. 

She  believed  him  capable  of  taking  a  very  high 
place  in  the  State  :  and  that  he  should  expend  his 
power  and  time  upon  extraneous  work  seemed  to 
her  little  better  than  wanton  waste.  To  convince 


238  AGATHA  PAGE. 

Agatha  of  this  she  felt  to  be  impossible,  and  there- 
fore gradually  conceived  the  plan  of  herself  being 
Loreno's  mentor,  and  of  influencing  him  to  sacrifice 
non-essentials  to  essentials. 

" 1  must  be  wise,"  she  exclaimed  to  herself  one 
night  as  she  sat  pondering  anxiously,  —  "  I  must  be 
wise  and  patient,  for  the  work  is  worthy  of  me  ;  " 
and  going  to  the  mantel  she  stood  looking  intently  at 
a  photograph  of  Filippo.  Then  with  her  eyes  upon 
his  she  repeated  the  lines :  — 

"  I  am  thy  friend,  and  hold  it  for  my  duty 
To  slow  the  speed  that  spurs  thee  to  thy  wrong." 

Of  course  it  is  an  open  question  how  far  the  pre- 
tence of  such  a  mission  deceived  Mercede ;  yet  the 
fact  that  she  sought  any  justification  of  her  course 
indicates  much.  The  keynote  of  her  character  was 
self-exaltation,  shown  through  a  confidence,  well- 
nigh  absolute,  in  her  inability  to  think  wrongly  or 
act  unworthily.  She  was  possessed  and  governed  by 
a  belief  that  the  spontaneous  out-giving  of  her  true 
nature  must  be  both  lofty  and  right.  If  her  opin- 
ions and  conduct  were  sometimes  at  variance  with 
the  accepted  opinions  and  customs  of  the  world, 
this  did  not  shake  her  faith  in  herself,  but  merely 
proved  her  superiority.  Even  when  she  submitted 
to  Filippo's  judgment,  it  was  not  because  of  uncer- 
tainty regarding  her  own,  but  simply  because  it  gave 
her  joy  to  bend  her  will  to  his,  and  because  it  cre- 
ated a  relation  which  it  gratified  her  to  bear  toward 
him.  Hers  was  a  character  incompatible  with  a 
quick  conscience ;  therefore,  though  forced  to  admit 


SHADOWS.  239 

that  her  nature  had  two  sides,  she  assured  herself 
that  the  bad  side  was  distinctly  subordinate,  re- 
quiring friction  to  make  itself  felt,  —  for  which  rea- 
son it  could  in  no  wise  affect  the  infallibility  of  that 
which  was  spontaneous  in  her.  She  believed  herself 
worthy  to  be  a  law  unto  herself.  Consequently  the 
voice  of  self-condemnation  had  been  quickly  stifled 
when  it  made  itself  heard,  and  her  present  studied 
attempt  at  self-justification  marked  a  new  epoch  in 
her  life.  She  had  hitherto  begun  her  campaigns  by 
burning  her  bridges  behind  her,  and  then  carving 
her  way  right  through  opposition  to  the  object  upon 
which  her  mind  was  fixed ;  and  quick  success  had 
left  no  reason  for  retrospection.  But  now  for  the 
first  time  she  found  herself  baffled  by  a  force  mightier 
than  any  she  had  yet  attacked,  —  the  force  of  Lo- 
reno's  love  for  his  wife.  This  necessitated  a  new  sort 
of  warfare  ;  she  must  substitute  patient  siege  for  sud- 
den onslaught,  —  a  form  of  attack  so  deliberate,  com- 
bined with  conditions  so  new  (for  she  could  always 
retreat),  that  she  could  not  prevent  occasional  out- 
breaks of  insubordination  from  the  moral  powers 
which  had  heretofore  been  dominated  by  her  will. 
Like  other  commanders,  after  crushing  the  spirit 
of  revolt  again  and  again,  she  was  at  last  com- 
pelled to  recognize,  even  to  parley  with  it,  and  that 
she  might  quiet  it,  often  resorted  to  injudicious  ac- 
tivity. Yes,  Mercede  was  at  last  compelled  to  parley 
with  her  moral  forces,  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  con- 
science protesting  against  her  infidelity  and  ingrati- 
tude to  her  cousin,  —  even  against  trifling  with  the 
sanctity  of  marriage.  Startled,  she  declared  she  could 


240  AGATHA   PAGE. 

not  be  so  base  as  this ;  that  her  honest  heart  could 
not  be  unfaithful,  her  warm  nature  ungrateful,  nor 
could  her  high  principle  be  made  to  bend.  She  could 
have  no  motives  save  those  which  a  noble  nature 
like  hers  would  naturally  conceive.  Besides,  were 
not  Loreno  and  Agatha  equally  dear  to  her? 

To  gain  an  accurate  knowledge  of  one's  bearings, 
one  has  only  to  note  carefully  the  thoughts  that  press 
themselves  upon  the  mind  during  a  walk  or  any  quiet 
hour  of  meditation.  Had  Mercede  applied  this  test, 
she  would  have  been  surprised  to  find  how  constantly 
the  image  of  her  cousin's  husband  crowded  out  all 
thoughts  of  others  and  of  her  art.  Her  mind  dwelt 
ever  upon  Filippo,  directly  or  indirectly ;  for  when 
she  thought  of  herself  or  even  of  those  near  to  her, 
it  was  in  connection  with  him,  or  when  she  seemed 
to  be  absorbed  by  her  art,  still  he  was  not  shut  out. 

It  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  Agatha,  thrown 
so  constantly  as  she  was  into  Mercede's  society, 
should  fail  eventually  to  catch  some  suspicion  of  all 
this.  Yet  her  awakening  was  not  so  much  the  re- 
sult of  the  growing  intimacy  between  Mercede  and 
Filippo,  as  of  the  change  in  Mercede's  conduct  to- 
ward herself;  for  conflicting  emotions  caused  Mer- 
cede to  blow  both  hot  and  cold  toward  her  cousin,  — 
the  tokens  of  love  given  to-day  being  frequently 
offset  to-morrow  by  undisguised  annoyance  at  some 
thoughtless  invasion  of  the  privacy  which  Mercede 
coveted  when  with  Loreno.  Mercede  did  not  believe 
these  invasions  to  be  intentional,  but  all  the  same 
they  were  annoying,  and  she  resented  them.  This 
spirit,  of  course,  aroused  Agatha's  wonder,  and  she 


SHADOWS.  241 

was  inclined  to  be  watchful.  Yet  when  stricken  by 
misgiving,  her  apprehension  would  be  allayed  by 
some  fresh  token  of  love,  to  doubt  which  would  be 
to  believe  her  cousin  a  cool  hypocrite.  And  indeed 
Mercede's  affection  for  the  woman  who  had  stood  by 
her  so  loyally  was  still  strong,  although  as  a  directing 
force  it  had  but  little  value. 

From  this  point  they  no  longer  moved  in  unison,, — 
Mercede  striving  with  all  the  intensity  of  her  throb- 
bing soul  to  press  closer  to  that  ideal  life  the  breath 
of  which  had  fanned  her;  while  Agatha,  startled, 
drew  away. 

Filippo  might  have  relieved  the  tension  of  affairs 
had  he  recognized  the  full  import  of  the  drama  of 
which  he  was  the  central  figure ;  but  he  failed  to 
give  the  subject  its  due  weight,  and  heedlessly  led 
Mercede  into  fresh  indications  of  her  partiality,  thus 
giving  Agatha  new  cause  for  perplexity. 

As  the  weeks  passed,  Mercede,  forced  on  by  her 
natural  impatience  of  restraint,  and  influenced  by 
the  fact  that  Filippo  seemed  always  to  keep  step 
with  her  advance,  grew  constantly  more  aggressive  ; 
and  there  came  a  time,  ere  long,  when  there  was  a 
distinct  lack  of  repose  in  the  relation  between  her- 
self and  Agatha.  Yet  Mercede  clung  to  her  purpose, 
although  the  new  conditions  forced  her  once  more  to 
shift  her  ground.  She  compared  herself  to  a  magnet : 
Filippo  was  her  armature  ;  and  as  the  power  of  the 
magnet  is  felt  through  its  armature,  so  should  it  be 
now :  she  would  confine  her  power  to  Filippo  and 
leave  to  him  the  task  of  drawing  Agatha.  Thus,  at 
last,  did  she  put  away  the  theory  of  equality. 

16 


242  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Following  this  new  line  of  conduct.  Mercede 
could  scarcely  fail  to  make  her  relations  with  Aga- 
tha more  and  more  strained ;  and  before  another 
month  had  passed,  the  two  cousins  were  exceedingly 
watchful  of  each  other. 

While  the  trustful  wife  by  no  means  comprehended 
the  actual  condition  of  affairs,  the  little  she  did  realize 
went  a  long  way.  The  fact  that  any  woman,  and 
least  of  all  her  beloved  cousin,  should  conceive  it 
possible  to  separate  Filippo  from  her  in  the  warmth 
of  friendship  sought  and  given,  was  difficult  to  com- 
prehend and  almost  impossible  to  accept.  It  must 
break  upon  her  mind  slowly.  It  must  be  a  growth; 
and  a  growth  it  was,  slow,  very  slow,  —  but  yet  a 
growth.  With  budding  realization  came  great  bit- 
terness of  feeling,  —  bitterness  which  at  times  almost 
made  her  forget  the  pain ;  for  Agatha  was  not  a 
saint,  —  and  may  Heaven  keep  all  true  wives  from 
being  saints  under  such  circumstances,  except  in  the 
exercise  of  saintly  wisdom  and  patience,  without  which 
their  chance  of  happiness  is  likely  to  be  wrecked. 

Probably  no  internal  force  so  nearly  destroys  the 
mind's  balance  as  that  of  jealousy,  and  yet  it  hangs 
over  most  of  us  held  by  a  mere  thread.  Once  cut 
this  thread,  and  the  dread  force  falls,  seeming  to 
crush  both  heart  and  reason.  Then  must  the  suf- 
ferer have  self-control  and  faith  to  a  rare  degree. 
Yet  happily  both  are  possible  to  all  men  and  women, 
and  even  in  a  grave  crisis  a  firm  use  of  them  makes 
the  chance  of  happiness  bright.  It  is,  indeed,  a  com- 
bat of  human  nature,  and  hope  lies  in  the  fact  that 
human  nature  is  good  as  well  as  vicious.  If  the 


SHADOWS.  243 

conditions  be  kept  favorable  through  incessant  vigi- 
lance and  unfaltering  self-control,  and  the  result 
awaited  with  patience,  while  the  result  may  be  far 
from  sure,  the  course  of  conduct  chosen  offers  the 
best,  almost  the  only,  chance  of  happiness. 

Many  a  stung  heart  is  culled  upon  to  decide  what 
to  do  when  love,  either  from  desire  to  roam  or  be- 
cause enticed,  seems  about  to  fly  out  of  the  window  ; 
and,  like  a  child  in  pursuit  of  a  truant  bird,  it  often 
crushes  the  life  it  is  striving  to  retain. 

This  was  the  crisis  approaching  in  Agatha's  life, 
and  she  felt  the  chill  of  its  shadow. 

Mercede  realized  equally  that  an  epoch  of  impor- 
tance was  at  hand,  and  fortified  herself  by  the  assur- 
ance that  her  position  was  impregnable. 

"  It  is  surely  not  ray  fault,"  she  reasoned,  "  that 
•Agatha  is  less  my  friend  than  is  her  husband.  I  cer- 
tainly had  no  wish  to  make  a  distinction  between 
them,  but  Agatha  would  have  it  so.  She  repelled 
my  advances,  checked  my  impulses,  and  drew  a 
magic  circle  around  Filippo  and  herself,  within  which 
I  was  not  to  step.  Nor  did  I ;  I  simply  stood  back 
and  waited,  until  at  last  Filippo  has  stepped  with- 
out her  circle  and  come  to  me.  Is  that  my  fault? 
Am  I  beyond  my  bounds  ?  Not  at  all !  Surety  I 
have  the  same  right  as  Agatha  to  think  and  speak,  to 
live  my  life  ;  and  if  any  one  comes  voluntarily  and 
wishes  to  share  its  pleasure,  shall  I  deny  him?  What 
for,  I  should  like  to  know?  Because  he  is  the  hus- 
band of  another?  I  am  not  seeking  to  estrange  a 
husband,  but  to  keep  a  friend.  He  knows  it ;  I  know 
it:  no  one  is  robbed,  and  there  is  no  wrong.  But 


244  AGATHA    PAGE. 

suppose  I  banish  him  ?  Is  there  no  wrong  then  ? 
Should  I  permit  Agatha's  petty  selfishness  to  stand 
in  the  way  of  duty  to  my  friend,  —  a  duty,  too,  the 
aim  of  which  is  to  make  him  whom  she  adores  more 
truly  useful  and  happy  ?  Moreover,  is  my  happiness 
nothing  ?  I  can  be  as  unselfish  as  any  one  when  there 
is  need,  but  am  I  to  make  the  selfishness  and  nig- 
gardly desire  of  another  woman  my  law  and  gospel? 
I  cannot  see  why  !  Agatha  has  her  rights  as  a  wife, 
and  I  am  the  last  one  to  dispute  them  ;  but  I  have  my 
rights  as  a  woman,  and  she  must  respect  them.  I  '11 
not  encroach  upon  her  territory,  provided  she  keeps 
out  of  mine.  But  in  my  home,  as  in  heaven,  there  is 
no  marriage  or  giving  in  marriage.  Friendship  reigns 
there,  and  I  '11  not  degrade  it  by  putting  it  in  a 
strait- jacket." 

Agatha  felt  keenly  Mercede's  increasing  absorption 
of  Filippo's  time  and  thought.  His  morning  rides 
with  her  cousin  was  but  one  of  a  number  of  causes 
for  this  wifely  suffering.  The  truth  is  that  she  had 
unconsciously  absorbed  almost  all  her  husband's  spare 
moments  before  Mercede's  arrival,  and  had  grown  so 
accustomed  to  his  constant  companionship  that  she 
felt  the  present  division  of  his  free  hours  more  than 
she  otherwise  would  have  done,  and  at  times  showed 
a  soreness  which,  although  not  surprising,  had  an 
effect  contrary  to  that  which  was  desirable.  Upon 
such  occasions  Mercede  showed  no  resentment,  and 
thereby,  in  Filippo's  eyes,  became  a  martyr  to  what 
lie  began  to  regard  as  Agatha's  unworthy  and  un- 
warranted selfishness.  He  persuaded  himself  that 
Agatha,  whose  nature  was  not  so  social  as  his,  had 


SHADOWS.  245 

been  somewhat  spoiled  by  the  entire  devotion  he  had 
always  given  to  her,  and  now  that  circumstances 
had  brought  their  life  into  contact  with  another  life, 
well  fitted  to  give  as  well  as  to  receive  happiness  by 
the  union,  she  was  unreasonable  in  her  reception  of 
the  new  conditions.  He  believed,  however,  that  the 
goodness  of  her  heart  would  lead  her  to  overcome 
this  ungenerous  feeling,  and  teach  her  how  natural 
it  was  that  one  whose  life  had  been  so  clouded  should 
creep  into  the  sunshine  of  their  life,  and  that  then 
she  would  join  in  his  full  welcome. 

While  disapproving  of  Agatha's  occasional  signs  of 
reluctance,  he  sincerely  regretted  the  pain  which 
prompted  them,  —  a  pain  he  felt  to  be  none  the  less 
real  because  uncalled  for.  Therefore  he  often  tried 
to  palliate  her  moments  of  depression  by  including 
her  in  any  plan  which  he  and  Mercede  might  have 
made  ;  but  while  his  attempt  bore  good  fruit  at  first, 
he  was  puzzled  to  find  that  it  was  gradually  becoming 
less  effective.  The  reason  for  this,  he  was  forced  to 
acknowledge,  rested  in  some  part  upon  Mercede's 
shoulders,  for  of  late  when  Agatha  had  appeared 
upon  the  scene,  Mercede  seemed  to  lose  her  spirits 
and  to  become  unaccountably  silent. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  you  nowadays  ?  "  said 
Filippo  to  his  wife  one  evening.  "  You  don't  seem 
quite  yourself.  I  wonder  if  a  ride  in  the  morning  air 
would  n't  do  you  good.  Since  Mercede  has  her  own 
horse,  why  not  join  us,  and  keep  the  bay  mare  in, 
practice  ?  " 

"Would  you  like  to  have  me  go?"  she  said  eagerly. 


246  AGATHA  PAGE. 

"  Certainly,  it  will  double  my  pleasure ;  why  not 
try  it?" 

"  I  have  n't  ridden  for  a  long  time." 

"  Yet  you  can  try." 

After  a  moment's  reflection  she  looked  up  brightly, 
and  said,  — 

"I  will,  —  that  is,  if  I  can  find  my  old  riding- 
habit." 

So  the  following  morning,  when  Mercede  came  be- 
low to  mount,  she  found  a  surprise  awaiting  her.  She 
had,  however,  the  good  grace  and  good  judgment 
to  welcome  Agatha  cordially.  They  left  the  city  by 
the  Porta  del  Popolo,  and  dashed  off  at  a  rapid  pace. 
As  it  was  Agatha's  first  ride,  she  tired  quickly,  and 
after  they  had  crossed  the  Ponte  Molle  she  suggested 
that  they  should  take  the  road  to  the  left,  which  leads 
along  the  banks  of  the  Tiber  back  to  Rome.  Mercede 
protested  that  it  was  too  lovely  a  day  to  make  their 
ride  so  short,  and  Agatha  then  declared  that,  while 
sorry  to  take  them  home,  she  did  not  feel  equal  to  a 
longer  ride. 

"It  is  wise  not  to  overdo  it,"  Loreno  said ;  " but 
in  a  few  days  you  will  be  as  eager  as  we  are." 

A  shadow  crossed  Agatha's  face  instantly.  "  If 
you  are  so  eager,"  she  said,  "  I  'm  all  the  more  sorry 
to  disappoint  you." 

Why  she  said  it  she  did  not  know,  but  in  truth  she 
was  worn  and  consequently  nervous.  Filippo's  first  in- 
clination was  to  correct  her  impression  ;  but  his  pride 
was  touched  and  it  ruled  him,  so  he  said  nothing. 

Agatha  thought  he  might  have  been  more  amiable, 
if  only  to  keep  Mercede  from  misinterpreting  his 


SHADOWS.  247 

silence.  Her  feeling  was  divided,  therefore,  between 
self-reproach  and  chagrin.  They  rode  on  without 
speaking,  Loreno  wondering  what  had  provoked 
Agatha's  caustic  remark,  and  Mercede  wondering  if 
he  would  not  contrast  this  ride  with  those  he  had 
taken  with  her  alone. 

"•  How  lovely  the  shadows  are  toward  Monte 
Mario  !  "  Agatha  said  after  a  time. 

"  Yes,  are  n't  they  ?  "  Loreno  replied  cordially. 

But  Mercede  held  her  peace.  She  was  not  going 
to  help  her  cousin  redeem  the  effect  of  her  presence. 

"  It  will  soon  be  time  to  think  of  going  to  Varese, 
won't  it?"  Agatha  continued,  anxious  to  atone  for 
her  ill-humor. 

It  was  Loreno  who  answered,  — 

"  Yes ;  did  I  tell  you  that  I  had  a  letter  from 
Varese  ?  " 

"  No  ;  what  is  the  news  ?  " 

He  hesitated  before  replying. 

"  I  forgot."  he  said  ;  "  I  made  a  compact  with 
Mercede,  the  first  day,  not  to  speak  of  my  affairs 
during  our  rides.  I  suppose  there  is  no  exception  to 
be  made  ?  "  and  he  looked  toward  Mercede. 

"  The  only  object,"  Mercede  answered,  "  was  to 
make  this  outing  as  complete  a  rest  as  possible  for 
you ;  but  I  doii't  suppose  our  rules  should  govern 
Agatha." 

Agatha's  cheeks  felt  hot.  "I  think  the  rule  a 
very  good  one,"  she  replied  quickly. 

Mercede  made  no  answer,  and  again  they  all  be- 
came silent. 

"  How  are  you  getting  on  with  that  mysterious 


248  AGATHA   PAGE. 

new  work  of  yours?"  said  Agatha  presently,  turning 
to  her  cousin.  "  We  are  wild  to  know  the  subject, 
are  n't  we,  Filippo  ?  " 

He  hesitated  again,  and  Agatha  looked  at  him 
with  surprise. 

"  That 's  another  of  our  forbidden  topics,"  he  said. 

"  Still,  our  rules  are  null  and  void  now,"  Mercede 
remarked.  "  I  hope  to  have  it  finished  in  a  month 
or  six  weeks." 

It  was  Agatha's  turn  to  be  silent.  "Always  our!" 
she  thought  bitterly.  "  ''Our  rules'  and  '•our  topics.'  " 

"  If  our  rule  is  suspended,"  Loreno  began,  turning 
to  Mercede,  "  I  'd  like  to  know  something  more  about 
the  statue  ;  is  it  marble,  or  bronze  ?  " 

"When  it's  finished,  I '11  invite  you  and  Agatha 
and  a  few  others  to  come  and  find  out." 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  so  much  now  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  think,  Filippo,"  Agatha  broke  in,  "  that 
you  would  make  me  feel  much  more  comfortable  if 
you  would  not  suspend  all  your  rules  and  regulations 
simply  because  I  am  with  you?  They  are  as  wise  this 
morning  as  they  have  been  for  the  past  month." 

"  We  were  taking  a  holiday,"  he  said,  with  a  propi- 
tiatory smile. 

Again  the  objectionable  plural  pronoun.  She  won- 
dered if  Mercede  were  conscious  of  its  effect  upon 
her,  and  thereupon  foolishly  did  what  she  could  to 
emphasize  this  effect ;  for  she  made  no  further  attempt 
to  break  the  monotony  of  the  homeward  journey,  and 
Filippo,  out  of  patience  with  her  ill-humor,  left  her 
to  it  and  talked  with  Mercede. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

QUESTIONS   AND   ANSWERS. 

ANYTHING  pertaining  to  Madame  Andr£  interested 
Rome,  and  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  her  growing 
intimacy  with  the  Marquis  Loreno  could  long  fail  to 
be  commented  upon.  The  criticism  did  not  flower 
in  a  day,  but,  increasing  steadily,  had  now  become 
a  full-blown  bit  of  gossip. 

It  soon  reached  the  ears  of  the  Duchess,  and  she 
immediately  laid  the  facts  before  the  Duke. 

"  This  thing  will  injure  Filippo,"  was  her  sad 
comment. 

"  Not  much." 

"  '  Not  much  ! '     How  can  it  fail  to  do  so  ?  " 

"  Because  he  's  a  man." 

"  But  he  's  a  husband  !  " 

" '  In  men,  mortal  sin  is  venial ;  only  in  women  is 
venial  sin  mortal.' ' 

"  But  it 's  disgraceful !  He  's  no  longer  a  boy,  and 
should  behave  himself." 

"  Go  tell  him  so  ;  it  will  console  you." 

"  Can  Filippo  be  flirting  with  this  woman,  indiffer- 
ent to  Agatha  and  the  rest  of  us  ?  " 

"  No  ;  he  's  probably  as  bothered  as  he  can  be  with 
Agatha  and  the  rest  of  us." 


250  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  Then  why  does  n't  he  stop  ?  " 

"  Because  he  has  n't  got  through." 

"  Then  he  is  contemptibly  selfish." 

"Not  necessarily.  It's  the  taste  most  men  have 
for  exploring." 

"  Did  you  ever  do  such  things  ?  " 

"  I  spent  my  proportion  in  New  Guinea.  In  beaten 
tracks  I  use  an  atlas  —  or  a  guide,"  he  added,  smiling 
fondly. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  my  brother  is  com- 
promising himself  with  his  eyes  open  ?  " 

"Men  don't  often  compromise  themselves  with 
their  eyes  shut." 

"Well,  I  believe  it's  more  than  half  that  horrid 
woman's  fault." 

"  About  half." 

"  And  that  Filippo  is  simply  drifting." 

"  Probably.     But  he  's  in  her  boat." 

"  Oh,  don't  be  so  horrid  !  " 

"Now,  I  'm  in  her  boat." 

"Well,  she  is  horrid;  and  you  are  as  aggravating 
as  you  can  be." 

"  So  was  Solomon ;  at  least  in  the  opinion  of  one 
lady  of  his  time." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  impatiently  and  walk- 
ing to  the  window  stood  looking  into  the  street  as 
she  revolved  the  subject. 

"  I  believe  I  '11  send  for  Filippo,"  she  said,  turning 
toward  the  Duke,  who  had  resumed  his  reading. 

"  Quite  right." 

She  wrote  a  note  asking  her  brother  to  call  upon 
her  during  the  day,  and  despatched  it  immediately. 


QUESTIONS  AND  ANSWERS.  251 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  Filippo  appeared. 
She  led  him  into  her  boudoir  and  closed  the  door. 

"  Filippo,  my  dear  brother,"  she  began,  "  do  you 
know  that  you  are  making  yourself  talked  about 
disagreeably  ?  " 

"  In  what  connection  ?  " 

"  Your  intimacy  with  Madame  Andre*." 

"Has  she  complained  of  it?"  and  his  voice  was 
perfectly  calm,  his  manner  undisturbed. 

"Of  course  not.  Don't  be  frigid  with  me.  You 
know  how  such  a  report  would  cut  me." 

He  paused  before  speaking.  "  There  is  nothing  in 
it,"  he  said.  "  If  there  were  reason  to  talk  of  us,  I 
would  tell  you  ;  but  while  Agatha  does  n't  object, 
who  else  should  ?  " 

She  sat  and  looked  at  him  silently  while  she  re- 
flected. He  puzzled  her.  "  There  are  several  rea- 
sons," she  replied,  "  why  Agatha  may  not  object. 
The  strongest  is  her  confidence  in  you ;  and  another 
reason  may  be  her  wifely  pride.  But  you  certainly 
are  imprudent  in  riding  almost  every  morning  alone 
with  this  lady,  and  in  —  " 

"  But  Agatha  often  goes  with  us,"  he  interrupted. 

"Well,  this  is  Saturday;  how  many  times  has 
Agatha  been  with  you  this  week  ?  " 

He  thought  a  moment.     "  Twice." 

"  And  you  have  ridden  every  morning.  In  fact, 
you  are  always  with  her.  Every  one  speaks  of  it, 
and  I  've  noticed  it  myself." 

He  made  an  exclamation,  and  seemed  about  to 
protest. 

"  Don't  be  annoyed,  my  dear  boy,"  she  pleaded ; 


252  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  reraember  our  old  relations,  and  what  friends  we 
have  always  been.  Surely  I  may  speak  frankly 
without  giving  you  offence  ! " 

His  mouth,  which  had  become  very  firm,  relaxed, 
and  his  eyes  lost  their  sudden  light. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  evidently  struggling  to  suppress 
his  anger,  "  I  will  listen  to  you,  Costanza ;  but  it  is 
more  than  I  would  grant  to  any  other  woman  living, 
even  to  Agatha." 

"  That 's  not  right,"  was  the  firm  answer.  "  Aga- 
tha, as  your  wife,  has  a  peculiar  right  to  speak  to  you 
of  such  a  subject.  Any  way,  I  wish  to  speak,  and 
that  very  frankty." 

She  went  and  seated  herself  beside  him  upon  the 
sofa,  and  looking  fondly  into  his  face  continued,  — 

"  Filippo,  dear,  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  believe,  and 
after  you  have  listened  patiently,  then  correct  me  if 
I  'm  wrong.  I  believe  you,  like  most  men,  find 
Madame  Andre  very  interesting.  You  are  indulg- 
ing your  old  propensity,  and  with  no  more  restriction 
than  before  you  were  married.  At  that  time  your 
conduct  occasioned  gossip ;  now  the  same  thing 
creates  scandal.  Then  you  were  judged  by  the 
standard  used  to  measure  the  conduct  of  young 
bachelors,  while  now  you  are  judged  by  the  stand- 
ard used  for  men  who  are  married.  Your  motives 
then  and  now  seem  to  you  identical  ;  but  their 
result  is  vastly  different.  Then  it  was  called  flir- 
tation ;  now  it  is  called  immorality.  I  know  it 's 
plain  speaking,  Filippo  dear,  but  we  have  always 
been  frank  with  each  other.  Why  not  be  more 
cautious  in  the  future?" 


QUESTIONS  AND  ANSWERS.  253 

"  My  dear  Costanza,"  and  his  eyes  looked  into 
hers  with  affection  and  truth,  "  I  would  not  have 
believed  that  I  could  sit  quietly  and  hear  any  one 
on  earth  speak  as  you  have  done  ;  but  I  understand 
your  motive  and  I  appreciate  it.  That  I  am  far  from 
indifferent  to  Agatha's  feelings  you  know,  and  I  am 
scarcely  less  anxious  to  please  you,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  my  heart  is  instantly  enlisted  in  whatever 
affects  either  my  dear  wife  or  you.  Therefore  if  my 
intimacy  with  Madame  Andre'  gave  reasonable  occa- 
sion for  your  disapproval  I  would  modify  accordingly 
my  relations  toward  her.  But  remember  that  she  is 
more  than  my  wife's  cousin  •,  they  are  practically 
sisters.  Mercede's  history  you  know,  and  you  must 
sympathize  with  her  misfortunes  and  admire  her 
courage.  Probably  the  world  thinks  that  her  art 
should  absorb  all  her  thoughts  and  aspirations,  while 
her  success  should  satisfy  every  possible  craving 
of  her  soul.  But  how  differently  would  the  world 
think  if  it  knew  the  real  woman !  Her  art  is  but 
a  means  to  a  worthy  end.  She  aims  to  create  a 
name  that  her  son  may  bear  without  the  shame  that 
belongs  to  her  own,  and  to  keep  herself  from  being 
a  dependent.  But  while  an  artist,  —  and,  you  must 
acknowledge,  a  great  one, — she  remains  a  woman, 
longing,  like  Agatha  or  like  you,  for  sympathy  and 
affection.  To  whom  would  her  heart  turn  if  not  to 
the  sister  who  had  stood  by  her  in  her  darkest  hours 
with  a  loyalty  that  I  never  think  of  without  my 
pulse  quickening  ?  It  was  glorious,  and  appeals 
irresistibly  to  Mejcede's  warm  heart.  With  Agatha 
she  naturally  —  almost  inevitably  —  associates  me. 


254  AGATHA  PAGE. 

She  looks  upon  me  almost  in  the  sacred  light  of  a 
brother,  and  I  regard  her  as  coming  next  to  my  own 
family  and  to  you.  Agatha  fully  understands  and  ap- 
preciates all  this,  and  the  only  cloud  that  ever  crosses 
the  perfection  of  our  relation  arises  from  the  disin- 
clination of  a  peculiarly  worshipful  nature  to  lose  a 
single  hour  or  thought  that  might  be  hers.  I  only 
speak  of  this  under  the  press  of  the  unusual  circum- 
stances which  have  led  to  this  interview;  and  I  do 
assure  you,  Costanza,  that  according  to  my  sincere 
belief  this  same  feeling  on  Agatha's  part,  both  in  its 
quality  and  its  extent,  might  apply  as  well  to  you  as 
to  Mercede.  Shall  I  then  obey  the  buzzing  of  care- 
less tongues  and  disregard  the  silent  pleading  of  a 
noble,  suffering  woman  ?  Is  that  your  advice,  my 
other  sister?  " 

The  appellation  shocked  her,  and  a  vigorous  pro- 
test against  dividing  the  cherished  relation  with  this 
stranger  rose  to  her  lips.  But  her  rare  wisdom  and 
good  sense  asserted  themselves,  and  she  held  her 
peace,  giving  her  mind  to  that  which  was  really  im- 
portant, —  the  spirit  which  prompted  the  use  of  this 
sacred  term  concerning  Madame  Andre",  and  the 
outcome  of  the  new-born  scandal. 

In  view  of  her  brother's  evident  sincerity  she  saw 
how  hopeless  a  task  it  would  be  to  urge  him  to 
regard  the  opinion  of  the  world,  clashing  as  it  did 
with  what  she  regarded  as  the  sympathy  and  chivalry 
of  his  nature.  While  he  never  courted  unpopularity, 
he  was  not  afraid  of  it,  nor  would  it  disturb  him. 
Her  quick  wit  told  her  that  there  was  but  one  hope, 
—  his  disillusion  by  Madame  Andre*  herself.  But 


QUESTIONS  AND  ANSWERS.  255 

this  would  be  a  question  of  time.  Ebbene !  One 
must  be  contented  with  what  one  can  have,  and 
this  seemed  the  best  that  was  possible  ;  at^  least,  it 
was  the  only  reasonable  hope  that  presented  itself  at 
the  moment.  She  appreciated  the  need  of  making 
no  mistake,  and  dared  not  follow  up  the  matter. 
She  desired,  however,  to  leave  the  subject  in  a 
position  to  be  reopened  should  she  so  wish. 

"  What  you  have  said,"  she  began,  "  requires,  of 
course,  my  fullest  consideration.  It  is  evidently  a 
conviction  in  your  mind,  but  before  accepting  it  I 
need  time.  Let  us  leave  it  so  ;  and  if  in  the  future 
I  wish  to  consult  you  again  I  may  do  so  frankly, 
may  I  not?" 

He  hesitated,  but  after  a  moment's  reflection  told  her 
that  she  might ;  so  they  spoke  of  other  subjects,  and 
when  Gaeta  entered  the  room  a  few  moments  later 
she  found  them  chatting  with  their  accustomed  free- 
dom. 

"  Well,  little  woman,"  said  her  uncle,  cordially, 
"  how  is  the  music  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  would  be  more  civil  to  ask  after  the 
musician,"  she  replied  pertly. 

"  I  know  he  is  well,"  he  retorted  ;  "  I  saw  him  in 
the  flesh  this  morning." 

Gaeta  flushed  slightly.  "Our  thoughts  'agree 
like  the  town  clocks,' "  she  said  with  a  little  toss  of 
her  pretty  head. 

He  enjoyed  sparring  with  her,  but  never  tried  her 
scant  patience  too  sorely. 

"  I  stand  corrected,"  and  he  held  out  his  hand. 
"  Now  tell  me  how  my  musician  is." 


256  AGATHA   PAGE. 

She  kissed  him,  and  then  looking  up  brightly, 
replied,  — 

"  Let;»me  rather  tell  you  again  how  much  I  enjoy 
the  lovely  piano.  Every  one  admires  it,  and  I  'm 
quite  celebrated  as  the  Signorina  who  owns  the 
American  piano.  Signer  Veltri  says  he  is  never 
tired  of  playing  upon  it." 

"  Your  aunt  Agatha  will  be  jealous,  for  he  never 
said  that  of  her  piano." 

"  That 's  because  he  can  praise  her." 

"Bravo!  I'll  remember  to  tell  her  your  dutiful 
compliment." 

"  Don't  forget,  for  I  've  a  favor  to  ask  of  her." 

"  Confide  it,  and  win  an  ally." 

"I  want  so  much  to  hear  'Lohengrin.'  It's  to  be 
given  a  week  from  next  Wednesday,  and  papa  and 
mamma  go  to  a  dinner  that  night." 

"  By  all  means  come  with  us.  We  have  invited 
no  one  yet,  and  the  box  holds  six." 

"  May  I,  Mamma  ?  " 

"  We  will  talk  about  it,"  was  the  maternal  answer. 

"I  must  be  going,"  Loreno  said,  rising  ;  "  I  '11  leave 
the  invitation  open  for  a  week,  and  you  must  tease 
mamma  until  she  consents." 

"  Don't  teach  the  child  such  nonsense,"  protested 
his  sister. 

"  Knowledge  is  power,  you  know,"  he  persisted. 
"  Receive  this  testimony,  Gaeta,  from  an  experienced 
parent." 

"  I  '11  try  to  be  worthy  of  such  an  uncle,"  she  said 
meekly.  "  I  '11  try  to  give  dear  mamma  no  peace  until 
she  writes,  and  thanks  you  as  you  deserve." 


CHAPTER   X. 

A  SIGNAL  OF  DANGER. 

IT  was  a  bright  warm  afternoon  at  the  end  of  April 
when  Madame  Andre's  guests  began  to  arrive.  She 
had  invited  thirty  or  forty  friends  to  see  the  unveil- 
ing of  her  last  work,  —  the  first  important  work  she 
had  done  in  Rome. 

The  building  occupied  by  Madame  Andre*  was  in 
the  grounds  of  a  villa,  several  outhouses  of  which 
the  needy  proprietor  had  turned  into  studios. 

As  Loreno  and  Agatha  left  their  carriage  and 
walked  up  the  short  path  leading  to  the  building, 
they  saw  Mercede's  guests  seated  at  a  number  of 
small  tables  placed  under  the  trees  near  the  studio. 
A  dozen  pretty  children,  models  in  their  gay  cos- 
tumes, flitted  here  and  there  serving  tea  from  a 
table,  at  which  stood  the  hostess  looking  very  pictu- 
resque in  a  dull  red  costume  of  soft  Indian  stuff  and 
a  velvet  turban  of  a  darker  shade.  The  company 
was  chatting  merrily,  and  Mercede  while  attending 
to  her  duties,  addressed  first  one  and  then  another 
near  her,  doing  what  she  could  to  make  the  occasion 
informal. 

Upon  catching  sight  of  her  cousins,  Mercede  came 
forward  eagerly,  and  immediately  bespoke  their  assist- 

17 


258  AGATHA   PAGE. 

ance,  Agatha  being  put  in  charge  of  the  tea,  and 
Loreno  instructed  to  make  himself  generally  useful. 

Agatha  wore  a  spring  costume,  mauve  in  color,  with 
a  bunch  of  Parma  violets  fastened  in  her  bodice, 
and  Mercede  was  obliged  to  confess  that  she  looked 
extremely  well.  The  young  wife,  conscious  of  the 
curious  glances  that  followed  her,  was  quick  to  seize 
this  opportunity  to  make  a  public  display  of  cor- 
diality toward  Mercede.  Filippo's  neighbors  found 
him  formal  in  manner  and  unresponsive.  He  knew 
them  well,  and  understood  their  furtive  glances 
toward  his  wife.  He  was  an  uncomfortable  com- 
panion, and  they  were  glad  when,  presently,  he 
urged  the  artist  to  lead  the  way  to  her  atelier,  and 
offered  her  his  arm.  The  others  rose,  and  falling 
into  pairs  followed  Mercede  and  Filippo  into  the 
building. 

"  Why  did  you  not  come  last  evening?  "  she  asked 
in  a  low  tone  as  they  passed  through  a  suite  of  rooms 
filled  with  statuary. 

"I  didn't  suppose  you  really  expected  me." 

"  I  wanted  you  to  be  the  first  to  look  upon  the 
finished  work." 

"  I  'm  very  sorry  to  have  disappointed  you ;  but, 
after  all,  we  could  n't  have  seen  it  well  at  night." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  have  a  strong  light  thrown  upon  it ; 
everything  else  is  in  shadow,  the  group  standing  out 
alone.  It  is  strangely  effective."  She  looked  behind 
her.  "  One  feels,"  she  added  in  a  still  lower  voice, 
"  as  though  one  became  a  part  of  it.  I  never  before 
so  entered  into  a  work." 

"  Indeed !    I  'in  very  impatient  to   see  this  mys- 


A   SIGNAL   OF  DANGER.  259 

terious  '  it,' "  he  replied,  as  they  halted  before  the 
atelier. 

Disengaging  her  hand  from  his  arm  she  pushed 
aside  the  portiere. 

The  work  was  so  placed  that  Loreno  did  not  see  it 
until  fairly  inside  the  room,  where  he  was  quickly 
surrounded  by  the  eager  guests.  Mercede  heard  the 
hum  of  admiration  that  sounded  around  her,  but  she 
was  indifferent  to  it.  Laying  her  hand  unconsciously 
upon  Filippo's  arm,  she  stood  with  fixed  gaze  eagerly 
searching  his  face. 

"How  beautiful!"  "How  exquisite!"  were  the 
words  that  resounded  on  all  sides,  but  neither  Mer- 
cede nor  Agatha  seemed  to  hear  them. 

"  What  is  the  subject  ? "  asked  Filippo  presently, 
without  turning  from  the  statue. 

"  Tristan  and  Isolde ; "  and  the  artist's  voice 
trembled. 

He  stood  silent,  intently  studying  the  group  for  a 
long  time,  and  then  turning  to  her  exclaimed  cor- 
dially, "  It  is  very  fine  !  " 

A  look  of  disappointment  and  pain  shot  across  her 
face,  but  she  banished  it  instantly  as  others  gathered 
about  her  to  offer  their  congratulations. 

Filippo's  first  glance  at  the  group  had  startled  him. 
The  intensity  of  the  subject  so  powerfully  depicted 
was  a  departure  from  the  severe  classic  that  had 
hitherto  characterized  Mercede's  work.  She  had 
evidently  put  into  it  all  she  knew  of  human  passion, 
and  the  electric  spark  seemed  to  flash  from  the 
dead  clay  to  the  living  flesh.  A  second  glance  con- 
vinced him  that  in  Tristan  his  own  features  were 


260  AGATHA   PAGE. 

clearly  suggested.  The  incident  chosen  was  the 
moment  just  after  the  drinking  of  the  love  potion, 
when  recognition  of  their  love  first  comes  to  the  ill- 
fated  pair. 

While  no  one  could  look  unmoved  upon  the  group, 
since  the  breath  of  genius  wedded  to  a  woman's  pas- 
sion had  created  it,  Loreno's  sensations  were  not  un- 
mixed. It  was  more  calculated  to  stir  him  than  most 
others,  because  of  his  keen  sensibility  to  art,  the 
strong  human  element  in  him,  and  the  fascination 
which  the  artist  had  for  him  :  yet  the  first  sensation 
which  thrilled  him  was  almost  instantly  suppressed 
by  the  chill  of  an  undefined  antipathy.  He  felt  that 
he  had  been  degraded.  Even  Mercede's  genius  and 
their  close  friendship  did  not  warrant  the  liberty  she 
had  taken.  But  as  he  reasoned  further,  he  began  to 
frame  excuses  for  her  until  he  was  able  at  least  to 
conceal  any  evidence  of  his  feeling,  and  to  praise  the 
group  as  earnestly  as  the  rest  of  her  friends.  Yet  he 
kept  his  eyes  away  from  the  face  of  his  wife. 

Later  in  the  afternoon,  however,  when  the  first 
impression  had  somewhat  worn  away,  he  joined 
Agatha  as  she  was  stepping  through  an  open  window 
to  the  lawn.  She  was  unusually  pale,  and  he  in- 
quired if  she  were  tired. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  "  very  ;  and  I  was  going  out 
for  a  breath  of  air."  She  took  Ins  arm  as  she  spoke, 
and  they  strolled  across  the  lawn  beyond  the  other 
guests  and  entered  a  grape-arbor.  Seating  them- 
selves upon  a  bench,  Agatha  threw  her  head  back 
against  the  vines,  and  Filippo,  lighting  a  cigarette, 
left  her  to  her  thoughts. 


A   SIGNAL   OF  DANGER.  261 

She  had  received  a  severe  shock,  and  was  bewil- 
dered. It  had  taken  weeks  to  convince  her  that  her 
cousin's  feeling  was  really  warmer  for  her  husband 
than  for  herself,  and  only  after  periods  of  keen  self- 
condemnation  at  the  suspicion,  hud  the  truth  been 
forced  upon  her.  But  she  had  clung  loyally  to  the 
belief  that  Mercede's  affection  was  very  deep  for  her 
as  well.  Implicit  confidence  is  not  easily  shaken, 
and  Agatha  had  pondered  and  struggled  through 
many  dark  hours  and  days,  trying  to  reconcile  Mer- 
cede's conduct  with  the  exalted  opinion  she  had 
always  held  of  her  character.  The  high-minded  wife 
could  not  believe  the  logical  result  of  facts  which 
she  was  obliged  to  recognize.  She  could  not,  there- 
fore, comprehend  Mercede's  aim.  Indeed,  even  at 
this  moment,  as  she  leaned  her  aching  head  against 
the  vines,  she  arrived  at  no  definite  opinion  except 
that  Mercede's  regard  for  Filippo  blinded  her  to 
common  prudence.  Yet  it  is  to  be  remembered  that 
Agatha  was  dependent  for  her  opinion  upon  the 
complex  workings  of  a  wilful  woman's  mind,  for  so 
long  as  she  did  not  cross  Mercede's  great  wish,  the 
latter  manifested  toward  her  undiminished  although 
spasmodic  warmth  of  feeling,  thus  stilling  many  a 
passing  doubt  that,  permitted  to  live,  would  have  em- 
barrassed Mercede's  purpose. 

The  Italians  have  a  proverb  which  says  that 
good  repute  is  like  the  cypress,  —  once  cut,  it  never 
puts  forth  leaf  again  ;  and  it  is  equally  true  of 
confidence.  Mercede  felt  this  instinctively,  and  was 
wise  enough  to  do.  what  she  could,  consistent  with 
her  own  aims,  to  preserve  the  faith  that  she  had  once 


AGATHA   PAGE. 

prized  for  itself  alone.  But  this  day's  signal  of 
danger  was  one  not  to  be  mistaken.  It  told  Agatlia 
that,  no  matter  what  Mercede's  opinion  of  her  might 
be,  her  cousin's  attitude  toward  Filippo  was  one 
which  fully  justified  the  whispers  now  floating  about 
Rome.  Leaving  right  and  wrong  entirely  out  of  the 
question,  she  could  not  understand  Mercede's  reck- 
less disregard  of  public  opinion  ;  it  confounded  her. 
She  wondered  what  Filippo  thought  of  it,  and  waited 
for  him  to  speak.  She  could  not  believe  that  he 
had  failed  to  recognize  the  resemblance  of  Tristan 
to  himself;  while,  this  similarity  once  suggested,  it 
was  easy,  in  spite  of  the  classical  type  which  had 
been  chosen  for  Isolde's  face,  to  see  that  the  pose 
and  lines  of  the  figure  bore  a  distinct  suggestion  of 
the  artist  herself. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  "  the  distressed  wife  asked 
herself  again  and  again  ;  but  even  now  this  question 
failed  to  hold  her  rnind.  The  shock  was  too  recent 
for  her  to  realize  fully  its  true  cause,  and  her  mind 
reverted  to  the  less  important  cry,  "  What  must  the 
others  have  thought?  What  will  the  world  say  ?" 

She  bit  her  lip  and  clenched  her  fingers  tightly  to 
restrain  the  indignation  which  possessed  her.  Pres- 
ently Filippo  threw  away  his  cigarette,  and  rising 
walked  restlessly  to  the  door  of  the  arbor. 

"  Shall  we  go  back  ?  "  Agatha  asked. 

"Perhaps  it  will  be  best;  Mercede  may  be  won- 
dering where  we  are." 

"  Is  it  such  an  extraordinary  thing,"  she  could 
not  help  saying,  "for  a  husband  and  wife  to  go 
off  together  for  a  stroll?" 


A    SIGNAL   OF  DANGER.  263 

"  Of  course  not ;  but  some  of  the  guests  are  going. 
I  saw  them  leaving  a  moment  ago,  and  our  absence 
will  be  the  more  conspicuous." 

She  kept  back  the  reply  that  sprang  to  her  lips, 
and  rose  instantly.  Indeed,  she  preferred  that  as 
many  of  her  friends  as  possible  should  see  her  hus- 
band and  herself  together. 

"  By  the  bye,"  she  said,  as  they  left  the  arbor, 
"  we  have  n't  spoken  of  the  group.  It 's  very  strik- 
ing, is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Very  —  and  wonderful  in  its  art ;  but  —  " 

"But  what?" 

"  I  'm  sorry  that  the  face  of  Tristan  suggests  mine, 
and  several  people  say  that  it  does." 

"  Did  you  sit  for  her  ?  " 

"  Why,  Agatha !  "  he  exclaimed  sharply.  Then 
he  added,  quite  calmly,  "  No ;  and  you  could  not 
have  been  more  surprised  than  I  was." 

She  pressed  his  arm  tightly.  "  Forgive  me,  dear- 
est ;  I  really  did  not  mean  what  I  said." 

"  I  should  hope  not,"  he  replied. 

At  the  threshold  they  met  friends  going  away, 
and  passed  from  room  to  room  until  they  found 
the  artist  taking  leave  of  her  guests.  They  went 
forward  and  joined  the  Duke  Faviola  and  Gaeta  (the 
Duchess  had  sent  her  regrets),  who  were  standing 
near  their  hostess.  Presently  Mercede  turned  and 
joined  the  group.  Her  color  was  high,  for  the  ex- 
citement of  the  occasion  was  not  without  its  effect 
upon  her. 

If  she  had  deluded  herself  with  the  hope  that 
Filippo's  features  would  not  be  generally  recognized 


264  AGATHA   PAGE. 

in  the  statue,  she  was  now  awakened  to  the  truth, 
for  the  resemblance  had  been  commonly  remarked.* 
She  therefore  boldly  took  the  bull  by  the  horns. 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  thank  me,  Filippo,"  she 
said  gayly,  "for  having  perpetuated  you?" 

"  Thus  far  it 's  only  clay,"  he  replied ;  "  and  as 
you  work  over  it  the  chance  likeness  may  be  lost." 

She  raised  her  eyebrows  slightly.  "Do  you  think, 
then,  that  it  needs  working  over?" 

"  I  supposed  that  sculptors  always  worked  over 
their  statues,  —  at  least  a  little." 

"  Did  you  ? "  and  her  eye  grew  cold,  for  she  be- 
lieved this  to  be  the  result  of  his  absence  with  Agatha. 
"  This  work  is  finished ;  I  don't  intend  to  touch  it 
again  !  "  She  looked  around  the  silent  group  and 
laughed  quietly  but  defiantly.  Then  she  realized 
that  she  was  putting  Filippo  in  opposition  to  her- 
self. Therefore,  with  surprising  intrepidity,  she 
completely  changed  her  tactics,  and  as  though  she 
had  been  jesting,  declared  that  the  fancied  resem- 
blance of  Tristan  to  Filippo  should  have  quite  dis- 
appeared when  next  her  friends  had  an  opportunity 
of  comparing  the  two  faces ;  and  as  she  took  leave 
of  Agatha  she  kissed  her  upon  both  cheeks  in  the 
Italian  fashion,  with  no  trace  of  the  bitterness  which 
in  truth  she  felt. 

As  Loreno  led  his  wife  away,  Mercede  turned  with 
a  bright  smile  to  the  Duke. 

"  Filippo  is  altogether  too  modest,"  she  said ; 
"don't  you  think  so?" 

"  No,"  said  his  Grace,  bluntly. 

"  No  ?  " 


A   SIGNAL   OF  DANGER.  265 

"  No  ;  Tristan  was  a  poacher." 

"  You  are  too  literal.  One  cannot  judge  heroes  of 
romance  as  a  magistrate  does  reprobates." 

"  I  don't ;  but  that  group,  while  effective,  perpet- 
uates dishonor." 

"No,  no!  not  dishonor,  but  love, —  that  sacred 
force  which  has  ruled  the  destinies  of  all  ages,  and 
which  will  last  as  long  as  the  bronze  which  personi- 
fies it." 

"  This  may  be  love,"  he  answered ;  "  but  there  is 
love  of  another  sort  which  scorns  selfishness  and 
builds  better  than  it  knows.  Such  love  is  pleasing 
in  the  sight  of  God,  and  shall  be  more  lasting  than 
bronze." 

This  was  positive  eloquence  for  the  taciturn  Duke, 
and  it  must  indeed  have  been  a  deep  feeling  which 
impelled  him  to  forsake  his  accustomed  reticence. 

An  hour  later'  Mercede  arose  from  the  chair  into 
which  she  had  sunk  as  her  last  guest  left  her.  Going 
to  her  new  creation,  she  stood  before  it  for  a  long 
time,  drinking  in  its  eloquence.  Then  she  spoke  as 
if  to  a  living  spirit. 

"  Are  you  deceiving  me  ?  "  she  said. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

"  FIDELIO." 

FILTPPO  felt  that  he  had  wronged  Mercede  the 
day  before,  and  he  was  eager  to  make  amends  to 
her,  —  at  least  in  his  own  mind.  She  had  said  quite 
plainly  that  the  resemblance  of  Tristan  to  himself  was 
accidental,  and  he  did  not  question  her  word.  He 
was  surprised  and  somewhat  offended,  therefore,  that 
Agatha  had  not  seemed  to  accept  fully  her  cousin's 
statement;  at  least  she  had  been  noticeably  quiet, 
not  only  while  driving  from  the  studio,  but  during 
the  evening. 

Gaeta  had  told  them  at  the  studio  that  she  would 
go  with  them  to  the  opera,  and  Filippo  decided  to 
suggest  to  Agatha  that  Mercede  and  the  General 
should  be  of  the  party. 

He  had  given  unusual  consideration  as  to  the  best 
method  of  making  this  suggestion,  and  determined 
to  express  his  wish  without  circumlocution  or  inde- 
cision. He  was  quite  prepared,  if  not  for  protest,  ;it 
least  for  demur  on  Agatha's  part,  and  was  propor- 
tionately surprised  when  she  quietly  but  cordially 
assented.  He  was  inclined  to  think  that  he  might 
have  misinterpreted  her  silence  of  the  previous  night. 
It  is  not  surprising,  perhaps,  that  he  reflected  thus 


"FIDELIO."  267 

superficially  upon  the  incident  of  the  day  before,  for 
it  was  not  to  his  mind,  as  to  Agatha's,  an  incident  of 
great  suggestiveness.  Indeed,  after  Mercede's  ex- 
planation, he  had  practically  dismissed  it  from  his 
mind,  for  his  faith  in  her  integrity  was  absolute. 

But  Agatha  was  now  fully  aroused.  At  last  she 
felt  that  there  was  danger.  Nevertheless,  while  a  tu- 
mult was  raging  in  her  heart,  she  realized  that  what 
was  needed,  and  what  she  must  bring  to  the  task  be- 
fore her,  was  a  cool  head  and  a  patient  trust.  She  had 
the  wisdom  to  know  that  in  all  peril,  whether  physi- 
cal or  moral,  excitement  is  worse  than  inaction.  She 
felt  as  though  she  were  rescuing  a  somnambulist  from 
a  threatened  fall  ;  should  she  stumble  or  cry  out,  all 
might  be  lost.  Throughout  her  homeward  drive, 
throughout  the  long  hours  of  a  sleepless  night,  she 
had  revolved  the  matter  again  and  again,  until  she 
compassed  its  gravity,  and  seemed  to  receive  sufficient 
light  to  guide  her  wisely,  at  least  for  the  present. 
Her  first  inclination  had  been,  naturally,  to  snap  off 
the  intimacy  which  had  sprung  up  between  her  hus- 
band and  her  cousin  ;  but  she  quickly  realized  that 
even  were  this  possible,  it  would  be  a  confession  of 
weakness.  Nor  was  this  idea  in  accordance  with  the 
line  of  conduct  upon  which  she  had  decided.  She 
would  not  trifle  with  her  future  happiness  by  playing 
the  part  of  a  jealous  wife.  Also,  she  reasoned  truly,  by 
having  Mercede  near  her  she  could  study  her  purpose 
more  intelligently,  and  to  be  forewarned  would  be  an 
important  advantage.  Nor  would  Mercede's  presence 
make  any  real  difference  in  the  end,  for  there  was 
nothing  to  be  gained  by  delay.  Sooner  or  later  she 


268  AGATHA  PAGE. 

must  stand  or  fall  upon  the  strength  of  her  husband's 
manhood  and  love. 

Then  the  will  that  had  once  subdued  that  of  her 
uncle  rose  in  its  might,  fortified  by  the  greater  matu- 
rity of  its  mistress  and  the  vital  gravity  of  her  cause. 
She  decided  that  her  faith  in  Filippo  should  be  as 
an  anchor  to  hold  him  firm  ;  and  further,  that  come 
what  might  of  temptation  or  peril,  no  woman  should 
ever  become  an  issue  between  her  husband  and  herself. 

It  was  in  obedience  to  this  purpose  that  she  ac- 
cepted without  hesitation  her  husband's  suggestion 
that  Mercede  should  be  included  in  the  opera  party, 
and  she  herself  sent  the  invitation  to  her  cousin. 

The  Apollo  Theatre  was  thronged  with  an  expec- 
tant audience  as  the  Lorenos  and  their  guests  took 
their  seats,  for  "  Lohengrin  "  had  not  often  been  heard 
in  Rome,  and  the  German  company  was  well  liked. 

Before  the  overture  began,  Agatha  outlined  the 
story  to  Gaeta,  since  the  libretto  did  not  contain  the 
"  argument "  to  which  English  and  American  audi- 
ences are  accustomed.  Mercede  listened  also,  and  as 
Agatha  finished,  remarked  quietly,  "  Elsa  was  served 
rightly." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  Agatha  responded,  "  for  she 
should  not  have  doubted.  Yet  what  a  punishment !  " 
and  her  voice  trembled  slightly. 

"  I  mean,"  added  Mercede,  "  that  she  seems  to  me, 
from  your  story,  to  be  a  miserably  weak  little  thing, 
frightened  lest  she  had  made  a  mdsalliance." 

"  That 's  one  way  of  putting  it ;  but  to  me  she 
seems  overcome  by  an  uncontrollable  desire  to  justify 
her  faith  in  her  husband." 


"FIDELIO."  269 

"No  man,"  and  Mercede  spoke  very  distinctly, 
a  will,  or  at  least  should,  permit  his  wife  to  be 
his  inquisitor,  —  nor,  for  that  matter,  his  monitor 
either." 

"  Whether  that  is  the  moral  this  story  teaches  or 
whether  it  is  not,  I  quite  agree  with  you."  And 
Agatha's  manner  betrayed  no  comprehension  of  the 
personal  suggestion  of  the  comment,  much  to  the  dis- 
gust of  Gaeta,  who  instantly  took  up  the  cudgels. 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,"  she  said  boldly.  "  I 
should  think  it  would  depend  upon  the  man,  and 
how  he  behaved  himself."  Then,  fearing  she  had 
spoken  too  plainly,  she  added,  "  I  only  hope  that  my 
knight  —  if  ever  I  have  one  —  won't  try  me  as  Elsa 
was  tried,  unless  he  prefers  to  go  away  from  me." 

"  A  wish.it  is  difficult  to  imagine,"  and  Mercede's 
lips  parted  with  one  of  her  charming  smiles.  "  Yet 
a  man  should  not  be  too  much  hampered  by  our 
sensitive  vanity.  He  must  necessarily  have  a  life 
somewhat  apart  from  that  of  his  wife.  For  example, 
do  you  suppose  that  diplomats  confide  all  their  com- 
ings and  goings  to  their  wives  ?  And  if  you  once  re- 
cognize this  principle,  where  will  you  draw  the  line  ?  " 

"  At  what  they  keep  to  themselves,  not  from  duty, 
but  from  lack  of  duty." 

Madame  Andre  raised  her  eyebrows  ominously, 
although  she  smiled  again.  "  And  pray,  what  con- 
ception of  a  man's  duty  has  your  experience  taught 
you  ?  I  am  interested." 

Gaeta's  little  nose  crept  up  in  the  air,  and  she 
looked  haughtily  out  of  the  corners  of  her  eyes,  in  no 
wise  discomfited. 


270  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"He  should  treat  me  as  he  would  compel  me  to 
treat  him,"  she  replied. 

u  Indeed  !  You  take  a  most  serious  view  of  mar- 
ried life.  One  might  suppose  you  expected  to  marry 
a  Turk." 

"Well,  whether  I  marry  a  Turk,  or  only  a  man  who 
is  tempted  to  behave  like  one,  I  wish  to  know  it  be- 
forehand ;  otherwise,"  and  she  gave  a  defiant  toss 
of  her  head,  "my  curiosity  will  more  than  annoy 
him." 

The  General  and  Filippo  laughed  heartily,  and 
the  latter,  asking  Mercede  for  her  lorgnette,  hast- 
ened to  comment  upon  some  persons  in  the  opposite 
box. 

At  this  moment  the  conductor  wielded  his  baton 
and  the  music  began.  When  Elsa  came  upon  the 
stage,  and  before  she  had  sung  a  note,  Mercede  saw 
Filippo  turn  and  look  at  Agatha  with  a  significant 
smile.  Agatha  flushed  with  pleasure,  and  nodded 
assent. 

"  We  heard  her  sing  at  Munich,"  he  explained  to 
Mercede.  *'  She  is  a  fine  artist." 

Agatha's  interest  in  Elsa  was  overshadowed  by  the 
memories  awakejied. 

They  had  heard  this  singer  during  their  wedding 
trip,  —  an  ideal  episode  in  Agatha's  life,  to  which  she 
looked  back  with  the  fullest  joy.  Then  the  opera 
was  "  Fidelio,"  and  she  remembered  saying  to  her- 
self upon  that  night,  so  many  years  ago,  as  she  was 
carried  on  by  her  ardent  sympathy  with  the  noble 
heroine,  that  she  would  do  the  same  were  her  hus- 
band spirited  away,  and  that  the  power  of  her  love, 


"F1DELIO."  271 

like  that  of  Fidelio,  could  not  fail  to  rescue  him. 
The  suggestion  now  startled  her,  and  her  breath 
came  fast ;  but  the  others  were  intent  upon  the 
peril  of  Elsa,  and  did  not  observe  her  excitement. 

At  the  end  of  the  act  visitors  kept  the  conver- 
sation in  safe  channels  until  the  curtain  rose  again. 
As  the  second  act  ended,  Mr.  Dow  entered  the  box, 
soon  followed  by  Veltri. 

"  I  think  1 11  go  and  pay  some  visits  myself," 
Filippo  remarked,  rising. 

"  Won't  you  give  me  a  turn  in  the  corridor  first  ?  " 
asked  Mercede.  "  It 's  very  warm  here." 

"  Certainly." 

"  A  good  idea,"  said  Agatha,  impulsively ;  "  let  us 
all  go,  —  that  is,  if  agreeable  to  every  one." 

So,  with  the  exception  of  the  General,  who  pre- 
ferred to  remain,  the  entire  party  left  the  box,  —  Mer- 
cede on  Filippo's  arm,  while  Mr.  Dow  captured  Gaeta. 
Indeed,  Mr.  Dow  had  of  late  become  more  and  more 
a  thorn  in  young  Veltri's  side.  Since  the  episode  re- 
garding Veltri,  Mr.  Dow  had  not  only  ceased  to  think 
of  Gaeta  as  a  child,  but  had  utterly  revised  his  con- 
ception of  her  character ;  in  fact,  he  stood  rather  in 
awe  of  her.  As  his  acquaintance  with  her  had  in- 
creased, he  found  more  and  more  interest  in  her  soci- 
ety, and  was  becoming  more  and  more  assiduous  in 
his  attentions  to  her,  although  no  one  except  Veltri 
seemed  conscious  of  the  fact, — not  even  Mr.  Dow 
himself.  But  Veltri's  brown  eyes  were  often  clouded 
and  his  heart  was  made  heavy  by  just  such  incidents 
as  that  which  now  caused  him  to  follow  the  tall 
figure  of  his  rival  with  bitter  envy. 


272  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  ought  n't  to  have  suggested  leaving 
the  box,"  said  Mercede  in  a  low  voice  as  Filippo  and 
she  walked  on  before  the  others. 

"Why  not?" 

"I  don't  know;  but  it  seems  strange  that  they 
should  all  throng  after  us." 

"  There  is  room  enough  for  all,"  he  replied  rather 
formally. 

"I  only  meant,"  Mercede  hastened  to  add,  feeling 
that  she  had  blundered,  "that  you  mustn't  let  my 
coming  embarrass  you.  Papa  is  still  in  the  box,  and 
I  '11  go  back  after  a  turn  or  two." 

"  I  '11  walk  with  you  as  long  as  you  wish ;  there 
is  n't  any  one  I  really  care  to  see." 

She  bowed  mockingly.  "  Thank  you  for  the 
compliment." 

"  I  meant,"  and  as  his  eyes  met  hers  all  trace  of 
annoyance  disappeared,  "  that  no  one  else  offers  suffi- 
cient counter-attraction." 

"I  refuse  to  accept  it,"  she  said  with  pretty  dignity 
"  Compliments  and  mirrors  cannot  be  mended." 

"  Yet  both  are  sometimes  to  be  trusted." 

"  I  hate  anything  that  even  suggests  a  mirror  to 
me,"  and  her  voice  lost  its  tone  of  banter ;  "  my  whole 
life  seems  made  up  of  reflections.  If  I  try  to  look 
ahead,  if  I  even  try  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  hearts 
about  me,  I  find  only  my  own  fears,  my  own  hopes, 
thrown  back  at  me.  It 's  horrid  !  " 

"  What  fears  can  you  possibly  have  for  the  future  ?  " 
he  asked  incredulously;  "and  as  for  the  hearts  of 
those  about  you,  whose  do  you  doubt  ?  " 

She  paused,  and  then  laughed  nervously.    "  I  don't 


"FIDELIO."  273 

suppose  I  really  fear  anything  or  doubt  any  one  ;  but 
have  you  never  known  anxiety  about  something  that 
reason  told  you  was  scarcely  possible  —  certainly,  not 
probable  ?  " 

"  Often,  —  concerning  the  children,  for  example, 
and  Agatha." 

At  that  name  her  lips  compressed. 

"  Precisely,"  she  said. 

They  were  passing  the  box,  and  opening  the  door 
she  suddenly  disengaged  her  arm  and  stepped  inside. 

"  Are  you  tired  of  it?  "  Filippo  asked. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  with  strange  emphasis. 


18 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DIFFERENT   POINTS   OF   VIEW. 

"  MERCEDE,"  said  the  General,  one  evening  about 
two  weeks  later,  "have  you  changed  that  face  of 
Tristan  yet?" 

She  looked  up  from  her  book,  but  did  not  turn  her 
head. 

"No;  I  haven't  taken  off  the  cage  except  to 
sprinkle  the  clay  ;  why  ?  " 

"  Nothing  ; "  and  the  old  man  relapsed  into  silence. 

"  There  must  have  been  some  reason  for  such  a 
question,"  she  said. 

"  Well  —  "  and  the  General  hesitated. 

"  '  Well '  ?  "  she  echoed  impatiently. 

"  Have  you  heard  any  report,  my  daughter,  that 
relates  to  you  and  Filippo?  Something  about  —  " 

"There,  father,  that  will  do!"  and  closing  her 
book  she  flung  it  upon  the  table.  "  I  know  all  about 
it,  and  I  'm  amazed  that  you  should  offer  me  the 
affront  of  mentioning  it  to  me." 

"  Our  silence  will  not  make  the  world  dumb." 

"  '  The  world ' ! "  she  exclaimed  bitterly.  "  Oh,  how 
you  tremble  before  it!  And  it's  not  the  first  time," 
she  added  significantly. 

"  No,  Mercede,  it's  not  fear  of  the  world,  but  fear  of 
being  in- the  wrong,  that  prompts  me  to  speak.  I  'm 


DIFFERENT  POINTS   OF   VIEW.  275 

not  concerned  about  Blanche  and  Tray  and  Sweet- 
heart, but  about  our  Agatha." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  faced  him. 

"It's  Agatha!  Agatha!  Agatha!  morning,  noon, 
and  night.  Does  it  never  occur  to  you  to  think  of 
me  a  little,  even  at  the  expense  of  your  idol?" 

"  Oh,  Mercede  !  "  and  the  old  man  raised  his  hand 
reproachfully  while  his  face  grew  pained.  "  How 
can  you  use  such  language  of  one  who  is  almost  a 
sister  to  you  ?  My  only  happiness  in  the  few  years 
remaining  to  me  is  in  you  both,  and  I  never  wish  to 
see  the  tie  loosened  that  has  bound  you  together." 

"  Very  well ;  then  don't  take  her  part  against 
me." 

"  In  what,  my  child?" 

"  In  this  report.  You  hear  that  her  husband  is  too 
friendly  with  me.  You  know  how  little  truth  there 
is  in  it,  and  should  scorn  to  annoy  me  with  it." 

"That's  the  trouble  ;  I  don't  think  it's  all  smoke." 

"  Father,  I  beg  of  you  to  have  a  care,  or  you  will 
deeply  offend  me !  " 

The  old  man  rose  and  lit  a  cigarette ;  then  he 
resumed  his  seat  and  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke. 

"  Now,  Mercede,"  he  said  quietly,  "  I  've  made  up 
my  mind  to  speak,"  —  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  hers,  — 
"  and  I  insist  upon  your  being  dutiful  and  listening. 
I  have  never  approved  of  your  riding  alone  with 
Filippo,  morning  after  morning  ;  I  thought  it  would 
create  remark,  and  I  was  right.  I  have  never  ap- 
proved of  Filippo's  meeting  you  day  after  day,  as  you 
leave  your  studio,  and  walking  with  you.  I  have 
never  approved  of  the  devotion  he  shows  you  in 


276  AGATHA    PAGE. 

society.  It 's  all  very  well  to  say  he  is  the  husband 
of  Agatha ;  but  you  are  both  young,  and  already 
the  strength  of  your  influence  upon  him  is  shown  by 
the  fact  that  he  is  absolutely  neglecting  other  affairs 
to  enjoy  these  tete-a-tetes  with  you.  This  is  a  mat- 
ter of  common  knowledge,  and  it  is  undeniable; 
and  this  thing,  like  any  other  wrong  thing,  should 
stop ! " 

The  directness  of  his  words  shocked  her;  but  a 
shock  is  an  effective  method  of  treatment  under  cer- 
tain conditions,  moral  as  well  as  physical.  She  was 
quite  calm  when  she  spoke. 

"  My  dear  Father,"  she  began,  "  you  hurt  me  more 
than  you  can  know.  I  am  not  a  reckless  coquette, 
but  merely  a  woman  peculiarly  dependent  upon  kind- 
ness and  sympathy.  I  have,  I  know,  both  you  and 
my  dear  child;  but,  as  you  say,  I  am  still  young,  and 
I  need  companions  of  my  own  age.  Where  should  I 
more  naturally  find  them  than  in  her  who  is  almost 
rny  sister,  and  in  her  husband?  I  long  to  see  them 
botli  whenever  I  can ;  but  I  am  busy  all  day  and  so 
is  Agatha,  therefore  neither  can  wait  upon  the  other. 
Filippo  happens  to  have  a  free  hour  in  the  morning 
and  another  in  the  afternoon,  and  he  seems  to  enjoy 
the  companionship  of  a  disinterested  and  loyal  friend 
beyond  that  of  a  set  of  fawning  politicians  or  foolish 
philanthropists." 

"He  used  to  help  Agatha  in  her  charitable  work 
in  these  hours,"  interposed  the  General. 

"At  the  expense  of  his  health.  No  one  can  re- 
proach him  with  idleness,"  she  went  on;  "but  it 
seems  that  they  do  wish  to  dictate  how  he  shall  use 


DIFFERENT  POINTS  OF  VIEW.  277 

the  little  freedom  he  has ;  while  as  for  me  —  well, 
as  Goethe  says,  — 

'Laziness,  you  know,  is  not  my  sin, 
But  somehow,  when  great  things  I  would  achieve, 
I  find  some  fool  from  whom  I  must  ask  leave.' 

As,  witness  my  Tristan ;  I  happen  to  choose  a  type 
which  to  the  vulgar  herd  suggests  a  familiar  face. 
Basta  !  I  must  change  it.  And  now  the  dear  souls, 
finding  how  omnipotent  they  are,  wish  to  direct  all 
my  affairs,  and  not  daring  to  come  to  me  they  sneak 
in  behind  my  back  to  you.  Do  you  blame  me  for 
resenting  it  ?  Can  you  wonder  that  I  am  pained  at 
your  giving  them  your  sympathy  and  using  jour 
authority  to  humble  me  ?  " 

"  God  keep  me  from  humbling  you,  my  child  !"  he 
responded  ;  "  I  have  it  only  in  my  heart  to  keep  you 
from  humbling  yourself." 

"  But  I  am  not  a  child." 

"  Yes,  you  are  my  child,  and  I  would  stand  between 
you  and  future  sorrow.  Friendship  is  a  relation  rest- 
ing on  honesty,  —  a  relation  upon  which  the  blessing  of 
God  may  be  invoked  each  day.  Sentiment  and  ardor 
attend  it,  but  they  should  ever  be  its  servants ;  other- 
wise it  becomes  indefensible  license." 

She  was  silent  a  long  time,  sitting  with  fixed  eyes, 
pondering  deeply. 

"  What  do  you  suggest?"  she  asked  presently. 

"  That  you  should  deny  yourself  some  present 
pleasure  for  the  sake  of  the  truer  happiness  of  all." 

"  I  cannot  see  the  necessity,"  she  replied.  "  You 
look  at  the  relation  between  Filippo  and  me  in  a 


278  AGATHA   PAGE. 

most  distorted  way.  Is  he  not  devoted  to  Agatha? 
Am  I  likely,  even  had  I  the  right,  to  encourage  a 
sentimental  relation  with  any  man  ?  But  friendship, 
in  other  words  sympathy,  is  as  essential  to  some  char- 
acters as  is  sunshine  to  the  growth  of  flowers.  My 
nature  can  either  be  opened  under  the  warmth  of  a 
friendly  force,  or  be  shrivelled  up  by  the  chill  of 
timidity  and  prudery." 

She  rose,  and  began  to  pace  up  and  down  the  room. 

"  Why  am  I  so  ?  "  she  continued  ;  "  and  if  I  beat 
down  these  natural  impulses  and  deny  myself  the 
little  happiness  granted  me,  what  will  the  world  give 
me  in  exchange  ?  Don't  for  Heaven's  sake  reply 
piously,  '  A  calm  conscience,'  or  suggest,  '  The  sweet 
consciousness  of  right  doing.'  I  deny  both!  I  need 
and  I  deserve  some  real,  living,  present  force,  which 
can  draw  my  sore  heart  from  its  incessant  repining. 
For  me  this  force  is  not  to  be  found  in  work  nor  in 
religion,  nor  does  it  hide  even  in  obscure  places  need- 
ing only  patient  seeking.  It  has  revealed  itself;  I 
have  found  it;  I  have  even  stretched  out  my  hands 
to  it.  And  now  I  am  bidden  to  deny  this,  my  purest 
instinct ;  to  fold  my  arms  across  my  breast  and  make 
a  mockery  of  resignation."  Then  turning  suddenly 
she  advanced  toward  him  with  absolute  defiance  in 
her  manner,  her  eyes  blazing,  her  face  white  with 
passion.  "  I  refuse  to  make  this  sacrifice,"  she  cried, 
her  voice  deep  and  clear  as  a  bell.  "  Do  you  under- 
stand me?  I  will  not  make  it.  I  will  not!" 

It  was  in  vain  that  her  father  tried  to  argue  with 
her ;  she  continued  to  pace  the  room,  but  would  not 
open  her  lips.  Presently  he  went  to  her  and  gently 


DIFFERENT  POINTS   OF   VIEW.  279 

laid  his  hand  upon  her  arm.  She  paused  and  looked 
at  him  inquiringly,  —  she  had  even  forgotten  his 
presence.  Then  going  towards  the  door  and  with- 
out looking  back,  she  left  him  and  went  to  her  own 
room. 

Before  sleeping,  however,  she  decided,  as  a  sort 
of  sop  to  her  conscience,  to  make  another  effort  to 
draw  nearer  to  Agatha.  The  next  day  this  resolu- 
tion was  somewhat  distasteful  to  her,  but  still  she  held 
to  it,  and  in  so  doing  felt  that  she  merited  commen- 
dation. That  afternoon,  as  she  was  leaving  her  studio, 
she  saw,  as  usual,  Filippo  walking  toward  her. 

"  I  'm  going  to  make  a  call,"  she  said. 

His  face  fell.     "  Then  are  we  to  lose  our  walk  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  see  Agatha ;  but  perhaps  she  will 
not  be  home  so  early  ? 

"  Not  before  six.  She  has  her  violin  class  this  after- 
noon. She  is  teaching  eight  or  ten  children." 

*'  Very  well.  Then  let  us  walk  a  little  until  I  find 
a  cab ;  I  want  an  old-time  chat  with  her,  and  you 
would  be  in  the  way." 

Filippo  seemed  disappointed.  "I'm  sorry  you 
chose  this  time.  I  've  had  a  vexatious  day,  and  an- 
ticipated the  change." 

Her  face  brightened,  but  her  tone  was  solicitous. 

"  What  has  been  the  matter  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  've  had  some  important  work  and  could  n't  bend 
my  mind  to  it." 

"  I  don't  wonder  ;  it  is  difficult  to  do  two  things 
well." 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  Why,  you  are  trying  to  combine  statesmanship, 


280  AGATHA   PAGE. 

which  taxes  all  the  resources  that  any  man  can  bring 
to  it,  with  philanthropy,  which  is  an  occupation  of 
itself.  They  interfere  with  each  other,  and  the  com- 
bination takes  too  much  out  of  you." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you  ;  and  if  I  did,  I  should  n't 
see  my  way  clear  to  drop  either." 

"  You  amaze  me ! "  and  she  regarded  him  with 
genuine  surprise.  "  I  don't  see  how  you  can  hesitate 
an  instant.  Cut  off  the  luxury,  and  devote  yourself 
only  to  work  worthy  of  you." 

"  Both  are  worthy,  —  equally  so,"  he  replied  earn- 
estly. "  They  have  the  same  end,  —  the  good  of 
one's  fellow-citizens." 

Her  nostrils  dilated  slightly.  "  Yes,"  she  said,  her 
voice  singularly  clear,  "  perhaps  they  may  be  said  to 
have  the  same  object,  like  man  and  wife  laboring  for 
the  common  family.  But  the  statesman  stands  before 
his  fellowmen  and  measures  his  strength  with  the 
strongest,  while  Philanthropy  remains  at  home  look- 
ing after  the  house,  and  the  children,  and  the  flower- 
pots." 

He  winced  a  little  at  the  picture.  "In  fashioning 
a  great  work,"  he  said,  "  many  tools  are  needed  ;  don't 
you  think  it  juster  to  regard  statesmanship  and  phi- 
lanthropy as  two  of  them,  each  fitted  for  its  especial 
purpose  ?  " 

"  Possibly !  " 

This  adverb  is  to  a  nimble  disputant  what  the  pali- 
sade is  to  a  chulo.  When  the  animal  we  are  worry- 
ing lowers  his  horns,  we  have  only  to  vault  behind 
this  word  and  we  leave  him  discomfited,  with  nothing 
to  hit.  Mercede  had  too  much  knowledge  of  human 


DIFFERENT  POINTS   OF   VIEW.  281 

nature  to  pursue  the  subject  further.  She  reasoned 
rightly  that  it  would  be  better  to  leave  the  contemp- 
tuous impression  which  she  had  created,  to  work  its 
way  into  his  mind,  rather  than  by  driving  it  further 
(as  was  her  inclination  and  habit  in  dispute)  to  risk 
putting  him  into  an  antagonistic  mood.  Daylight, 
she  knew,  will  creep  through  a  small  hole. 

Therefore  she  branched  off  suddenly  to  other 
topics,  and  he  believed  that  she  was  trying  to  atone 
for  her  sarcasm.  It  is  curious  how  black  a  man 
can  paint  the  devil,  and  how  brightly  he  will  gild 
a  sympathetic  woman. 

There  was  no  indication  of  bitterness  in  Agatha's 
manner  as  she  received  her  cousin. 

"  Did  you  see  Filippo  this  afternoon  ?  "  she  asked. 

Mercede  flushed  slightly.  "  Yes  ;  I  met  him  on 
my  way  here." 

"  You  meet  every  afternoon,  I  believe." 

Mercede  hesitated.  "  Yes,  we  do  ;  that  is,  nearly 
every  afternoon." 

"  He  often  speaks  of  your  walks.  He  seems  to 
enjoy  them  very  much,  and  they  do  him  good.  He 
doesn't  get  enough  fresh  air." 

"  So  it  seemed  to  me,  and  I  felt  the  same  about  my- 
self. Indeed,  it  was  under  Dr.  Maretti's  advice  that 
I  decided  to  take  more  exercise." 

"  Yes,  I  remember  ;  do  you  feel  its  good  effects  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  am  much  better  than  I  was." 

"  I  have  a  plan  in  mind  that  I  think  will  put  you 
quite  right  again.  Has  Filippo  told  you  that  we  are 
going  to  the  country  next  week?  " 


282  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  No,"  and  Mercede's  lips  lost  their  color. 

"  That 's  his  frightful  memory.  Yes,  we  go  next 
Tuesday  to  Varese.  The  people  there  really  seem  to 
need  us." 

Mercede  tried  to  smile.  "It  sounds  charming," 
she  said.  "  I  quite  envy  you." 

"  Do  you?  Then  I  hope  that  you  will  consider  the 
plan  I  have  to  propose.  Why  won't  you  run  away 
from  work  for  a  month  and  come  to  us  ?  " 

The  dark  eyes  opened  with  genuine  surprise. 
"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,"  —  and  she  paused  to  collect 
her  ideas,  —  "  but  it  is  so  unexpected !  I  have  n't 
thought  of  abandoning  work  so  soon,  and  I  don't  see 
how  I  can  leave  just  yet,  but  —  " 

"  Does  the  idea  tempt  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  It  would  be  a  most  grateful  rest, 
but  I  fear  I  can't  spare  the  time.  Yet  I  'd  like  to 
think  it  over." 

She  had  little  realized  until  now,  when  the  matter 
stared  her  in  the  face,  what  it  would  be  to  have  day 
after  day  drag  itself  slowly  by  without  bringing 
Filippo  to  her.  This  was  what  she  kept  before  her 
mind  all  that  evening,  and  the  more  she  thought  of 
it  the  less  tolerable  it  seemed.  Ugh  !  what  miserable, 
heavy,  hopeless  hours  they  would  be,  whole  days  and 
nights  full  of  them.  She  needed  all  her  sophistries, 
all  her  self-deceiving  theories,  to  disguise  the  feeling 
that  now  stirred  her  so  powerfully  ;  for  ere  she  slept 
that  night  she  knew  that  were  she  compelled  to 
choose  between  abandoning  her  artistic  career  forever 
and  losing  this  month  with  him  whose  presence  was 
her  chief  delight,  she  would  not  hesitate ;  and  she 


DIFFERENT  POINTS   OF    VIEW.  283 

marvelled  as  she  remembered  that  when  with  Agatha 
only  a  few  hours  before,  her  hesitation  had  been  genu- 
ine. These  two  fixed  points  startled  her,  bringing  as 
they  did  vividly  before  her  mind  the  distance  she  had 
moved  in  her  moral  orbit  during  these  intervening 
hours.  Yes,  the  realization  startled  her,  but  it  did 
not  frighten  her;  it  did  not  even  grieve  her.  On 
the  contrary,  her  mind  whirled  with  joy.  In  addition 
to  the  excitement  of  the  theme  was  the  buoyancy 
which  so  often  comes  with  decision,  —  a  buoyancy 
enhanced  in  this  instance  by  Mercede's  impatience 
under  self-denial. 

"  Shoot  your  own  thread  right  through  the  earthly  tissue 
Bravely  :  and  leave  the  gods  to  find  the  issue." 

This  was  the  thought  that  possessed  her.  She  at- 
tempted no  justification,  she  made  no  apology  in  the 
present  hour  ;  she  simply  nerved  herself  with  these 
lines.  They  seemed  inspired  and  addressed  to  her. 
They  were  of  the  wisdom  of  Goethe. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LOOKING    NORTHWARD. 

MERCEDE  did  not  sleep  well.  Nearly  the  entire 
night  she  lay  with  her  open  eyes  fixed  upon  the  flick- 
ering night-light,  thinking.  Slowly,  but  with  hopeless 
certainty,  there  had  crept  over  her  joy  a  sullen  cloud. 
Finally  she  arose  from  her  bed  and  tried  to  throw 
off  her  wretchedness,  but  the  cloud  hung  about  her. 
Nervous  from  lack  of  rest,  and  worn  by  intense  men- 
tal excitement,  she  suddenly  flung  herself  upon  the 
sofa  and  wept. 

She  was  oppressed  and  torn  by  self-dissatisfaction 
which  only  a  proud  struggle  kept  from  becoming 
self-condemnation  ;  but  at  last  she  throttled  her  bet- 
ter nature,  and  then  her  mind  was  seized  with  a  mor- 
bid jealousy  that  utterly  mastered  her.  She  no  longer 
denied  that  she  envied  her  cousin  to  the  depths  of  her 
nature,  and  felt  that  she  could  not  bring  herself  to 
enter  Filippo's  house  to  be  an  hourly  witness  of 
Agatha's  exercise  of  her  wifely  rights  —  yet  the 
thought  of  separation  from  Filippo  was  unbearable. 

What,  then,  should  she  do  ?  Time  and  again  her 
better  self  struggled  for  recognition ;  but  this  only 
added  to  her  torment,  and  with  obstinate  fury  she 
crushed  it  down. 


LOOKING  NORTHWARD.  285 

Throwing  on  a  wrapper,  she  opened  a  window  and 
leaning  her  throbbing  head  upon  her  arms  tried  to 
think.  How  could  she  accomplish  these  conflicting 
purposes?  How  could  she  have  Filippo  without  be- 
coming Agatha's  guest?  At  last  with  the  gathering 
light  of  dawn  came  relief  to  her  perplexity,  and  rising 
to  her  full  height,  she  stood  with  her  hands  folded 
behind  her  head,  gazing  at  the  dim  stars  that  faded 
without  her  knowledge. 

Presently  a  noise  in  the  street  below  recalled  her 
from  her  oblivion,  and  she  watched  with  strange  in- 
terest the  trifling  incidents  that  mark  an  awaken- 
ing city.  Her  mind  was  clear ;  her  purpose  taken. 
Filippo  must  come  to  Erba,  and  since  Agatha  seemed 
to  have  conquered  her  desire  to  monopolize  her 
husband,  the  peculiar  sentiment  she  felt  for  Erba 
would  probably  induce  her  to  accept  an  invitation 
to  go  there  for  her  usual  summer  visit.  In  regard 
to  the  invitation  to  Varese,  which  would  undoubt- 
edly be  pressed  further,  Mercede  decided  to  post- 
pone a  definite  reply.  She  felt  that  a  happy  solution 
of  her  difficulty  had  thus  been  reached  ;  for  while 
she  should  secure  Filippo's  society,  she  would  be 
spared  the  humiliation  of  being  in  Agatha's  home 
under  circumstances  which  would  scarcely  be  —  hon- 
orable is  what  she  meant,  but  the  word  she  used  was 
"  agreeable." 

Nothing  remained,  therefore,  but  to  see  her  father 
and  secure  his  co-operation.  She  looked  at  her 
watch,  —  he  would  not  breakfast  for  three  hours ; 
so,  lowering  her  cu-rtains,  she  lay  down  upon  the  bed 
and  soon  fell  into  a  deep  sleep.  When  she  awoke,  it 


286  AGATHA   PAGE. 

was  late,  and  hastily  ringing  for  her  maid  she  learned 
that  the  General  was  still  at  home ;  whereupon  she 
sent  him  word  that  she  wished  to  speak  with  him, 
and  would  dress  immediately.  Her  sleep  had  not 
refreshed  her  much,  and  her  head  ached  viciously ; 
but  she  swept  into  her  father's  presence  with  a  bright 
smile  and  bade  him  a  cheerful  good-morning. 

"Papa  dear,"  she  began,  "you  have  invited  Aga- 
tha to  Erba  every  summer  since  her  marriage  ;  why 
have  n't  you  invited  her  this  year  ?  " 

"  Well,"  and  he  hesitated.  "  Perhaps  I  ought  to 
do  so." 

"  Why,  papa !  you  speak  as  though  it  were  a 
duty."  " 

"  You  see,  my  dear,"  and  he  avoided  her  eye, 
"things  are  a  little  different  this  year." 

"  Different  ?     In  what  way  ?  " 

"  You  are  with  me,  and  I  don't  need  Agatha  so 
much." 

"  That  is  not  your  reason.  Why  not  be  frank 
with  me?" 

The  old  gentleman  lighted  a  cigarette  and  smoked 
rapidly,  as  was  his  habit  when  in  trouble.  Then,  after 
a  few  moments'  consideration,  he  answered  her. 

"  If  you  will  have  the  truth,  Mercede,"  he  said,  "  I 
was  n't  quite  sure  that  you  would  find  it  pleasant  to 
have  Agatha  with  us.  You  know  she  is  devoted 
to  her  charities,  and  they  pertain  to  Erba  as  well 
as  to  Varese  ;  and  I  feared  you  might  disapprove, 
and  —  " 

"  And  make  my  disapproval  offensively  known  ? 
Now  I  Understand.  But  what  an  injustice  you  do 


LOOKING  NORTHWARD.  287 

me !  I  trust  I  am  a  better  hostess  than  that.  Be- 
sides, I  don't  object  to  charity  in  its  right  place  ;  and 
the  country  is  just  its  place,  for  there  one  is  away 
from  one's  other  duties." 

The  General's  eye  brightened,  and  he  protested 
that  he  needed  no  urging  to  invite  Agatha  to  Erba. 
It  was  soon  arranged,  therefore,  that  he  should 
see  her  during  the  day,  and  then  go  to  Mercede's 
studio. 

The  General  called  upon  Agatha  in  the  afternoon, 
and  later  made  his  promised  report  to  Mercede. 
Agatha  had  recounted  the  pressing  demands  of  Va- 
rese  affairs,  but  offered  no  personal  opposition  to  the 
proposed  delay,  agreeing  to  leave  the  decision  to  her 
husband.  As  Mercede  listened,  her  heart  grew  light ; 
she  felt  that  her  desire  was  practically  accomplished, 
and  when  a  few  hours  later  she  joined  Filippo  for 
their  usual  walk,  her  step  was  light,  her  face  bright 
with  happiness.  She  lost  no  time  in  unfolding  her 
plan,  scarcely  paying  him  the  compliment  of  putting 
the  matter  suggestively. 

To  her  amazement  he  received  the  idea  with  ob- 
jections, but  not,  as  she  had  expected,  based  upon 
Agatha's  probable  opposition  to  it.  He  had,  he 
said  received  news  from  Varese  that  morning,  and 
his  presence  there  seemed  necessary.  Mercede,  an- 
noyed at  the  need  of  argument,  nevertheless  yielded 
to  the  inevitable  ;  but  her  words  seemed  to  make 
no  impression  upon  his  resolve.  As  she  argued,  her 
purpose  grew  more  intense,  for  behind  this  strange 
opposition  she  believed  Agatha  to  be  intrenched. 
Agatha,  she  thought,  desiring  to  take  her  husband 


288  AGATHA  PAGE. 

away,  had  played  upon  his  kindness  of  heart  for  her 
own  purposes ;  and  now  he  believed  himself  to  be 
guided  by  his  own  sense  of  duty,  and  was  as  obstinate 
as  he  could  be. 

As  the  realization  of  parting  from  him  came  to 
Mercede  afresh,  she  shifted  her  ground  and  began 
to  plead,  —  appealing  to  him  not  to  disappoint  her 
father;  and  thereupon  she  drew  so  touching  a  pic- 
ture of  the  Count's  happiness  at  gaining  Agatha's 
consent,  that  for  the  first  time  Filippo  showed  signs 
of  faltering.  By  a  skilful  use  of  this  potent  argu- 
ment,—  for  Loreno  was  very  fond  of  the  Count,  and 
felt  that  Agatha  owed  to  him  the  duty  of  a  daughter, 
—  reinforced  by  the  power  of  her  own  personality, 
which  came  into  full  play  through  the  emotional 
direction  which  the  discussion  had  taken,  Mercede 
succeeded  in  gaining  two  points :  He  consented, 
first,  that  Agatha  should  visit  Erba  before  going  to 
Varese ;  then,  that  he  would  write  immediately  to 
Varese,  and  if  possible  would  himself  accept  the 
Count's  invitation.  Exultant,  she  pressed  him  hard- 
er,—  all  her  influence  over  him,  all  her  fascination 
for  him  vivified  by  the  full  intensity  of  her  aroused 
jealousy.  Little  by  little  she  won  her  victory,  —  the 
most  noteworthy  by  far  she  had  yet  won  with  him. 
He  promised  unconditionally  to  visit  Erba  for  at  least 
a  few  days. 

Rome  gossiped  a  little  more  sharply  when  it  be- 
came known  that  Madame  Andrd  and  Filippo  were 
to  be  together  at  Erba;  but  sober  second  thought 
gradually  asserted  itself,  as  the  critics  began  to  ask 


LOOKING  NORTHWARD.  289 

themselves  what  was  more  natural  than  that  the 
Marchesa  Loreno  should  visit  her  uncle  at  the  villa 
which  had  once  been  her  home  ?  Even  the  most 
eager  fault-finder  could  not  justify  criticism  of  this 
fact,  and  was,  moreover,  obliged  to  admit  that 
Loreno's  absence  would  be  more  noticeable  than 
his  presence. 

The  principal  actors  in  the  affair  did  not,  however, 
stay  to  note  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  gossip,  but  took 
themselves  off  to  the  sweet  air  and  sweeter  moral  at- 
mosphere of  the  Northern  hills.  Their  going  made 
at  least  three  hearts  that  were  left  in  Rome  very 
heavy,  because  it  suggested  the  approach  of  another 
parting.  One  heart  was  Gaeta's ;  another  was  that  of 
Signor  Veltri ;  while  the  third  belonged  to  Mr.  Peter 
Dow. 

There  are  certain  flowers  containing  small  glands 
in  which  a  drop  of  etheric  oil  is  secreted.  When  the 
flower  is  young,  these  glands  are  but  little  developed, 
but  they  grow  with  the  flower,  and  become  fully 
developed  only  when  the  blossoms  begin  to  fade.  If 
at  that  time  a  light  be  held  near,  a  flame  is  kindled 
which  flashes  vividly  like  miniature  lightning.  And 
there  seem  to  be  hearts  closely  analogous  to  such 
plants.  They  are  susceptible  to  the  touch  of  love 
only  when  the  blossoms  begin  to  wither  ;  but  then,  if 
the  conditions  serve,  they  answer  bravely,  and  sud- 
denly illumine  with  exhaustless  bounty  the  darkness 
which  has  hung  over  them. 

Of  some  such  species  must  have  been  the  heart 
of  Mr.  Peter  Dow:  for  not  until  now,  when  the 
blossoms  of  his  youth  were  undeniably  fading,  had  it 

19 


290  AGATHA   PAGE. 

responded  to  the  ever-searching  flame.  Yes,  Mr. 
Dow  had  at  last  become  the  victim  of  a  new  and 
most  incautious  habit,  —  he  thought  day  and  night 
of  the  fascinating  little  creature  who  of  late  luid 
treated  him  so  kindly.  He  knew  that  the  great  dif- 
ference between  their  ages  was  against  him  so  far  as 
Gaeta  herself  was  concerned  ;  but  Italian  girls  are 
not  so  bigoted  as  American  girls  about  that  sort  of 
thing,  and  he  assured  himself  that  the  continental 
idea  of  marriage  was  much  more  prudent,  if  some- 
times less  sentimental,  than  that  which  prevailed  in 
his  own  country.  Gaeta  had  developed  wonderfully, 
and  was  mature  and  wise  beyond  her  years.  Mr. 
Dow  acknowledged  that  she  had  an  enthusiasm  for 
her  young  music-teacher;  but  this  enthusiasm,  ap- 
parently, was  shared  by  her  father  and  mother,  and 
surely  they  would  not  smooth  the  way  of  their  only 
child  to  a  mesalliance.  Therefore  it  was  most  un- 
likely that  Veltri  was  to  be  regarded  as  a  rival, 
whereas  Mr.  Dow,  in  fairness  to  himself,  felt  bound 
to  admit  that  there  was  much  to  justify  the  hope  in 
his  heart.  Although  he  had  no  title,  he  had  money, 
and  so  far  as  birth  was  concerned  —  well,  it  was 
something  to  have  been  born  in  Boston.  Then  his 
thoughts  were  wont  to  fly  away  to  the  future,  and 
he  smiled  with  grim  anticipation  as  he  pictured  to 
himself  the  hospitable  way  in  which  exclusive  Boston 
doors  would  be  flung  open  to  receive  the  daughter  of 
a  Duke.  Not  that  Bostonians  value  titles  as  New- 
Yorkers  do,  making  themselves  breathless  in  their 
eager  seeking  after  the  imported  luxury ;  but  then 
no  one : —  not  even  a  Bostonian  —  would  hesitate  at 


LOOKING  NORTHWARD.  291 

a  Faviola.  Why,  Gaeta's  ancestral  tree  would  make 
the  best  one  in  Boston  seem  like  a  blackberry-bush 
beside  a  Salem  elm.  No  ;  Mr.  Dow  had  no  concern 
about  Gaeta's  reception  at  home ;  and  besides,  they 
would  only  cross  "the  pond  "  now  and  then  for  a  lit- 
tle change.  America  would  n't  be  bad,  taken  in  that 
way,  especially  with  a  Duke's  daughter. 

But  Mr.  Dow  was  not  merely  ambitious,  he  was 
genuinely  in  love.  It  seemed  as  though  life  had 
been  dark  until  the  presence  of  Gaeta  bright  eyes  had 
fired  the  hidden  treasures  of  his  soul.  Of  late,  when 
he  awoke,  and  looked  upon  the  mellow  Southern  sun- 
light, it  seemed  to  him  to  be  indeed  blessed,  for  it 
brought  a  renewed  hope  of  seeing  the  little  maid 
to  whom  his  thoughts  turned  always.  The  flowers 
seemed  more  lovely  than  before,  as  he  walked  around 
the  Piazza-di-Spagna,  gazing  into  the  baskets  of  the 
flower-boys  or  into  the  windows  of  their  more  pre- 
tentious rivals,  seeking  for  a  bunch  that  might  fitly 
be  offered  to  her  whose  color  rivalled  that  of  the 
rich  dark  roses  which  he  so  carefully  selected.  Then, 
too,  what  joy  to  see  her  fresh  beauty,  and  watch 
each  new  indication  of  her  increasing  regard  !  That 
she  did  not  always  greet  him  with  fervor  meant  ab- 
solutely nothing,  for  she  was  a  little  queen  in  her 
domain,  doing  precisely  as  she  chose,  and  appar- 
ently having  no  concern  regarding  the  impression 
she  might  create.  But  usually  she  was  most  gra- 
cious and  winning  toward  him,  and  he  felt  that  her 
variableness  of  manner  was  evidence  of  their  inti- 
macy. She  always  seemed  glad  to  receive  the  flow- 
ers he  brought  to  her,  and  now  and  then  had  put 


292  AGATHA  PAGE. 

some  of  them  in  her  dress.  True,  he  had  twice 
known  of  her  giving  the  young  musician  a  flower 
from  her  bunch ;  but,  after  all,  that  was  nothing. 
Indeed,  Mr.  Dow  told  himself,  it  showed  a  very 
platonic  feeling  toward  Veltri,  otherwise  she  would 
not  dream  of  showing  him  such  an  attention.  Mr. 
Dow  dreaded  the  summer,  since  the  daily  glimpse  of 
Gaeta,  to  which  he  had  acquired  the  habit  of  look- 
ing forward  so  eagerly,  must  necessarily  cease  unless 
he  could  manage  to  be  near  her.  He  hoped  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  would  invite  him  to  make  them  a  short 
visit ;  and  that  it  would  be  a  momentous  visit  he  felt 
sure.  Yet  another  and  bolder  plan  crossed  his  mind  ; 
but  he  postponed  its  consideration,  at  least  for  the 
present.  He  would  sit  a  little  longer  on  the  bank 
before  actually  taking  the  plunge.  True,  in  this  case 
it  did  not  seem  a  likely  way  of  "  getting  there  ;  "  but 
something  might  happen  to  reveal  to  him  the  depth 
of  the  water  into  which  he  proposed  to  venture. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

JUNE  DAYS. 

TEN  days  later  Padre  Sacconi  stood  on  the  porch 
of  the  Villa  Ricci  with  Mercede,  who  was  waiting  to 
receive  her  guests.  The  General  had  gone  to  the 
station  to  meet  them,  and  now  they  were  here. 

As  Agatha  caught  sight  of  the  priest  she  kissed 
her  hand  to  him,  and  having  greeted  Mercede,  came 
to  him  with  the  old  happy  look  in  her  eyes.  But 
she  seemed  rather  nervous  of  manner,  and  turning 
back  even  as  he  answered  her,  looked  toward  Mer- 
cede. The  latter  was  standing  at  the  side  of  Filippo 
while  he  gave  some  directions  about  the  hand  lug- 
gage. Presently  he  finished  and  turned  to  her.  She 
extended  both  her  hands,  which  he  took,  and  for 
an  instant  they  stood  looking  into  each  other's  eyes. 
They  spoke  a  few  words,  and  as  the  Marquis  came 
forward  to  speak  with  Padre  Sacconi,  Mercede  turned 
and  slipped  her  hand  familiarly  through  his  arm,  her 
face  radiant,  her  manner  denoting  security. 

The  keen  glance  of  Padre  Sacconi  had  followed 
that  of  Agatha,  and  now  as  he  looked  again  into 
her  troubled  eyes  he  read  her  distress.  Nor  was 
his  judgment  shaken  by  the  rapidity  with  which  her 
expression  changed,  nor  by  the  light-hearted  manner 
she  assumed  as  her  husband  and  cousin  approached. 


294  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  This  is  like  old  times  !  "  exclaimed  Filippo  hear- 
tily, as  he  shook  the  priest's  hand. 

"  Yes,  and  may  the  present  leave  as  pleasant  a 
memory." 

"  It  cannot  be  more  pleasant ! "  was  the  cordial 
reply.  There  was  a  sudden  pressure  upon  his  arm, 
and  he  added,  "  Except  because  of  Madame  Andrews 
presence." 

"  You  overpower  me,"  she  replied  with  a  light 
laugh  ;  then  pausing  an  instant,  added  with  peculiar 
seriousness,  "  I  sincerely  trust,  Padre,  that  your  wish 
may  come  true,  and  that  this  visit  may  leave  memo- 
ries worthy  to  be  compared  with  those  already  asso- 
ciated with  the  old  place." 

"  Talking  of  memories,  Agatha,"  said  Filippo, 
"you  must  dress  yourself  in  white  some  afternoon, 
take  your  violin  down  to  the  iron  gate,  and  with  the 
Padre  give  Mercede  a  full-dress  representation  of  a 
certain  tableau  that  is  worthy  of  her  genius." 

"Pray  excuse  me,"  interposed  Mercede,  whose 
smile  suggested  bitterness,  "  but  no  more  family  re- 
semblances for  me !  An  experienced  monkey  is 
never  tempted  twice  by  a  cabomba." 

"  Come,  Mercede,"  called  the  General,  stepping 
outside  the  door,  "  bring  in  the  travellers,  or  they 
will  be  late  for  dinner,  and  the  children  must  not  be 
kept  waiting." 

"  But  surely,  papa,"  she  protested,  "  the  children 
are  not  to  eat  at  our  table." 

"  Now,  don't  oppose  me,"  he  said  amiably,  "  for 
it  is  useless.  They  ha^e  been  invited  and  have 
accepted;" 


JUNE  DAYS.  295 

"  But  not  the  baby,"  said  Agatha,  who  saw  that 
Mercede  was  annoyed. 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  demanded  Filippo. 

"Why  not,  indeed?"  said  the  Count.  "I  have 
invited  Miss  Teresa  to  sit  at  my  right  hand." 

"There  is  really  no  reason  except  your  fatigue, 
Agatha  dear,"  said  Mercede,  changing  front  as  she 
caught  Filippo's  wish  ;  "  I  '11  sit  next  the  baby." 

Agatha  felt  the  hot  blood  fling  itself  to  her  cheeks, 
but  without  deigning  to  answer,  she  turned  and  went 
indoors.  Filippo  thought  she  might  have  thanked 
her  cousin.  * 

Yet  dinner  was  a  merry  meal ;  every  one  seemed 
in  good  spirits,  and  only  the  fleeting  expression  which 
now  and  then  darted  into  Agatha's  eyes,  and  au  occa- 
sional slight  contraction  of  the  lips  as  her  glance  fell 
upon  Filippo,  told  Padre  Sacconi  that  her  heart  was 
heavy.  The  young  Marquis  was  certainly  impru- 
dent. He  could  have  been  friendly  enough  without 
devoting  himself  so  ardently  to  his  engaging  neigh- 
bor ;  but  both  Mercede  and  he  seemed,  with  occa- 
sional intervals,  to  forget  that  they  were  not  dining 
apart. 

During  the  evening,  also,  they  showed  the  same 
inclination  to  be  alone.  First,  they  strolled  off  to- 
gether while  Agatha  was  upstairs  in  the  nursery ;  and 
later,  when  the  moon  rose,  Mercede,  leaving  the  group 
upon  the  veranda,  walked  to  the  edge  of  the  terrace 
overlooking  the  lake,  where  Filippo  soon  joined  her. 
Presently  Padre  Sacconi  suggested  that  they  should 
all  go  and  see  the  effect  of  the  moonlight  upon  the 
distant  water ;  but  after  a  few  general  remarks  both 


296  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Filippo  and  Mercede  became  quite  silent,  and  pres- 
ently Mercede,  saying  that  she  was  chilly,  took 
Filippo's  arm  and  they  walked  back  and  forth  be- 
hind the  rest  of  the  party  on  the  broad  path  which 
skirted  the  terrace. 

The  next  morning,  when  Agatha  awoke,  she  was 
startled  to  find  that  Filippo  had  already  risen,  and 
glanced  hastily  at  her  watch.  It  was  not  yet  eight 
o'clock,  and  the  breakfast-hour  was  nine.  She  looked 
into  her  husband's  dressing-room,  and  a  sharp  pain 
shot  through  her  heart  as  she  saw  that  he  was  not 
there.  As  breakfast  was  announced,  Filippo  and 
Mercede  came  across  the  lawn,  and  seeing  Agatha 
upon  the  veranda,  gayly  waved  their  hands. 

"  We  've  been  to  the  lake,  and  Filippo  has  been 
teaching  me  to  row,"  exclaimed  Mercede. 

"  You  must  be  hungry  ;  "  and  Agatha  strove  hard 
to  appear  natural. 

"  Ech  —  cosi,  cosi,"  and  she  shrugged  her  shoulders 
slightly.  "  I  did  so  well,  that  Filippo  has  promised 
to  give  me  another  lesson  before  dinner." 

Agatha  turned  to  her  husband.  "  Shall  we  be  back 
so  early  from  Villincino  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  he  answered.  "We  can  go  immedi- 
ately after  luncheon,  and  if  we  give  two  hours,  it 
will  be  enough." 

"  But  it 's  our  first  visit  this  season,  you  know,  and 
we  have  usually  found  a  great  deal  to  do." 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said  doubtfully,  "  that  it 's  really 
necessary  for  me  to  go  with  you.  Yes,  of  course  it 
is,"  he  added  quickly,  "  for  the  houses  have  to  be 
gone  over  for  the  winter  prizes ;  I  forgot  them." 


JUNE  DAYS.  297 

"  Then  let  us  give  up  the  row,"  Mereede  said 
grimly.  ^  It 's  of  little  consequence  as  compared 
with  the  pleasure  of  these  contadini." 

"  Could  n't  we  postpone  our  visit  for  a  day  ?  " 
Filippo  suggested. 

"  No,"  and  Agatha  spoke  firmly.  "  I  '11  go  alone 
willingly,  but  I  won't  neglect  these  poor  people ; 
knowing  that  I  arrived  yesterday,  they  will  expect 
me." 

"  Then  that  settles  it ;  and  if  I  am  late  to-night, 
I  '11  give  Mereede  a  lesson  to-morrow." 

Further  discussion  was  postponed  by  the  appear- 
ance of  the  Count ;  but  Filippo  soon  found  that  he 
was  out  of  favor  with  Mercede. 

"I'm  going  to  explore  some  of  my  old  haunts," 
said  Agatha  to  her  husband,  when  alone  with  him 
after  breakfast ;  "  don't  you  want  to  come  wiA 
me?" 

"  Are  you  going  alone  ?  " 

"  Not  if  you  will  come  with  me,  dear." 

"  I  'd  like  very  much  to  go,"  he  began  ;  "  but  —  M 

This  was  more  than  she  could  stand. 

"  But  what  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  I  have  something —  some  writing  to  do  this  morn 
ing,"  and  he  smiled  mysteriously. 

"  I  will  go  alone,"  she  said  gravely,  and  turned 
away  to  hide  the  trembling  of  her  lip. 

As  she  left  the  house  it  happened  that  she  saw 
her  husband  bending  over  Mercede's  shoulder,  read- 
ing a  passage  from  a  book,  while  his  companion 
watched  his  face  •  earnestly.  Agatha  had  often  seen 
the  book  in  Mercede's  hands,  and  knew  it  to  be  the 


298  AGATHA  PAGE. 

"  Elective  Affinities."  Filippo  watched  his  wife  fur- 
tively until  she  disappeared ;  then  he  left  Mercede 
and  went  to  the  library,  where  he  busied  himself 
writing  some  verses. 

By  and  by  Mercede  entered  the  room  as  though 
unconscious  that  he  was  there.  As  he  looked  up  she 
apologized  and  made  a  show  of  withdrawing. 

"Don't  go,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  to  say  something  to 
you."  She  returned,  and  he  continued,  "I'm  very 
sorry,  but  I  think  we  must  postpone  our  rowing." 

"  I  don't  mind  such  a  trifle,"  she  replied ;  "  you 
could  n't  have  done  differently,  since  Agatha  was  so 
firm.  Perhaps  we  had  better  not  go  at  all." 

"  Why  not,  pray  ?  " 

"  Not  unless  Agatha  can  go  with  us." 

He  paused  a  moment,  looking  at  her  with  an 
incredulous  expression. 

"Why?" 

Mercede  shrugged  her  shoulders  in  her  expressive 
way.  "  She  is  a  young  wife,  and  young  wives  some- 
times have  strange  notions." 

"  Then  they  are  different  from  Agatha ;  she 's 
above  such  nonsense." 

"  Are  you  sure,  Filippo  ?  "  and  she  watched  him 
closely ;  "  are  you  quite  sure  ?  Not  that  Agatha 
would  willingly  yield  to  a  weak  or  selfish  notion  ; 
but  may  she  not  be  narrow,  like  most  other  women, 
in  her  views  of  friendship  ?  Happily,  I  have  forced 
my  way  out  of  this  terrible  conventionality,  and  am 
able  to  stand  with  you  on  the  higher  plane ;  but  is 
she  also  able  to  do  this?" 

"  Agatha's  idea  of  friendship,"  he  replied  sternly, 


JUNE  DAYS.  299 

"  is  shown  by  her  loyalty  to  you.  That  plane  seems 
to  me  to  be  high  enough  for  any  one." 

Mercede  was  frightened.  "  Doubtless  my  fears 
make  a  coward  of  me,"  she  said  hastily  ;  "  but  I  have 
too  little  of  the  happiness  of  life  to  spare  any  impor- 
tant factor,"  and  she  studied  his  face  intently. 

"  No  one  begrudges  you  any  factor  of  your  happi- 
ness, Mercede,  so  put  such  notions  out  of  your  mind  ; 
they  are  not  worthy  of  you.  Agatha  is  definite  when- 
ever duty  comes  in.  That  is  all  her  decisive  words  of 
to-day  meant ;  and  to-morrow  you  will  see  how  little 
she  will  trouble  herself  whether  I  give  you  a  rowing- 
lesson  or  not." 

"I  don't  doubt  you  are  right  ;  but  can't  you  under- 
stand that  I  am  tenderly  sensitive  to  anything  like  a 
rebuff?" 

He  made  a  gesture  of  impatience.  "  For  Heaven's 
sake,  Mercede,  don't  be  morbid ! "  he  said.  "  If  there 
is  anything  I  can't  stand,  it's  that.  Don't  get  into  the 
habit  of  looking  over  your  shoulder  for  spooks,  or 
you  '11  knock  your  head  pretty  often,  besides  the 
wear  and  tear  on  your  nerves.  If  you  would  be  rid 
of  spectres,  drive  them  once  and  forever  out  of  your 
mind ;  that 's  where  they  are  fed  and  made  strong." 

Mercede  was  not  clear  as  to  whether  he  was  un- 
willing to  acknowledge  Agatha's  jealousy,  or  still 
partly  blind  to  it.  Of  one  thing,  however,  she  was 
convinced ;  that  he  would  not  permit  any  reflection 
upon  his  wife,  no  matter  what  he  thought  of  her 
conduct.  She  deemed  it  wise  to  throw  a  sop  to 
Agatha's  jealousy,  and  thereupon  set  herself  the 
task  of  framing  some  method  whereby  the  young  wife 


300  AGATHA   PAGE. 

might  more  often  accompany  her  husband  without 
embarrassing  his  freedom.  She  decided  that  an  es- 
cort for  Agatha  must  be  provided ;  it  mattered  little 
who  he  was  so  long  as  his  presence  secured  a  fourth 
member  to  the  party.  Mr.  Dow  seemed  the  most 
practicable  person  for  the  purpose,  as  he  had  nothing 
to  keep  him  in  Rome  and  would  probably  come  with- 
out delay. 

In  Rome,  the  weather  had  become  enervating,  and 
the  Faviola's  were  on  the  eve  of  their  departure  for 
Erba. 

Gaeta  had  just  finished  her  last  music  lesson,  when 
her  mother  came  into  the  room. 

"  Of  course  you  will  keep  the  same  hours  for  me 
next  autumn,"  said  Gaeta  to  her  master. 

"  With  pleasure,  Signorina." 

"  That  reminds  me,"  the  Duchess  interposed.  u  I 
intended  speaking  with  you,  Gaeta,  about  your  music 
next  winter.  I  doubt  if  you  will  be  able  to  take  two 
lessons  a  week." 

"And  why  not?" 

"  You  will  be  much  more  occupied,  now  that  you 
have  been  presented. 

"•  I'ut  I  prefer  not  to  neglect  my  music." 

"  We  had  better  discuss  the  matter  another  time. 
For  the  present,  Signer  Veltri  will  perhaps  permit  us 
to  leave  the  hours  open." 

"  I  am  at  your  service,"  he  replied ;  "pray  take  your 
own  time."  Then  he  went  to  Gaeta  and  extended  his 
hand.  "  Good-by,  Signorina,"  he  said. 

"  Are  you  not  coming  to  the  train  ?  " 


JUNE  DAYS.  301 

"  Remember,  dear,"  the  Duchess  said,  "  that  Signer 
Veltri  is  a  busy  man." 

"  But  not  too  busy  to  come  to  the  station  if  you 
will  permit,  Signora." 

"  Certainly,  come  if  you  can ;  but  don't  let  the 
child's  wish  influence  you." 

"  It  will  be  a  pleasure."  And  he  bowed  and  left 
the  room. 

"Now,  mamma,  what  does  it  mean?"  asked  Gaeta, 
dramatically. 

"  That  you  must  go  more  into  society  next  season, 
darling.  You  are  becoming  a  young  lady,  and  must 
do  as  the  others  do." 

"  But,  mamma,  at  the  expense  of  my  music  ?" 

"  Not  necessarily  ;  but  at  the  sacrifice  of  a  lesson  a 
week." 

"  Oh,  I  am  beginning  to  hate  society  !  "  and  Gaeta 
clenched  her  fingers  viciously. 

"  Don't  be  a  silly  girl.  Most  girls  would  be  de- 
lighted at  the  prospect." 

"  But  most  girls  don't  care  for  music  as  I  do.  I  'd 
rather  take  a  lesson  than  —  than  —  there  is  n't  any- 
thing else  I  care  a  fig  for." 

"Then  that  shows  the  necessity  of  broadening 
your  interests." 

"  But  it  is  n't  necessary  to  break  my  heart  doing 
it ; "  and  she  flung  herself  upon  the  sofa,  and  burying 
her  face  in  the  cushion,  sobbed  bitterly. 

"Why,  my  darling,"  exclaimed  her  mother,  going 
to  her  and  stroking  her  hair,  "  what  does  it  mean  ? 
You  surely  can't  feel  so  badly  at  the  mere  thought  of 
taking  fewer  lessons.  It 's  most  extraordinary  ! "  and 


302  AGATHA   PAGE. 

her  brows  contracted.  "  What  is  it,  darling  ?  tell 
me." 

"  I  don't  know,"  sobbed  Gaeta,  "  but  I  'm  very 
unhappy." 

"  *  Unhappy' !  Come,  Gaeta,  look  up  and  talk  with 
me ; "  and  the  Duchess  seated  herself  beside  her 
child. 

The  sufferer  heaved  a  convulsive  sigh,  and  lifting 
her  head  laid  it  upon  her  mother's  shoulder. 

"  Tell  me,  pet,  why  this  suggestion  affects  you  so 
strangely." 

"  I  don't  know,  I  'm  sure,  except  that  I  love 
my  music." 

"  But  I  have  n't  proposed  that  you  give  it  up." 

"  Not  in  so  many  words,  no  !  But  the  effect  will 
be  the  same ;  it  will  kill  the  enthusiasm,"  and  she 
sighed  deeply. 

"  Then  you  don't  truly  love»music  ?" 

"  Well,  then  I  must  be  crazy,  and  you  'd  better 
have  the  doctor,"  was  the  smothered  comment. 

"  Why  crazy,  dear  ?  " 

"  To  go  on  so  about  something  I  don't  care  for." 

"I  don't  wish  to  make  you  unhappy,"  she  said, 
playing  with  the  black  tresses ;  "  but  think  the  mat- 
ter- over.  We  will  speak  of  it  again  in  the  course 
of  a  week  or  two." 

"No,  I  don't  want  to  wait,"  and  Gaeta  sat  up- 
right. "I'd  a  hundred  times  rather  settle  it  now. 
I  couldn't  endure  the  uncertainty." 

u  What  would  you  propose  ?  " 

"  Would  you  not  agree  to  two  lessons  a  week  until 
Befana." 


JUNE  DAYS.  303 

"  Well,  perhaps  so.  And  then  possibly  you  will 
find  one  a  fortnight  sufficient." 

"  No,  I  sha'  n't,"  was  the  positive  reply.  "  But  I'll 
try  to  reconcile  myself  to  one  a  week." 

"  Very  well,  dear,  then  arrange  it  so."  She  hesi- 
tated a  moment,  and  fixing  her  eyes  closely  upon  her 
child's  face,  added,  "  But  why  not  take  an  occasional 
lesson  from  Sgambati  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  mamma ! "  and  her  face  grew  pale.  "  Don't 
suggest  my  changing.  I  'm  perfectly  satisfied  with 
Signer  Veltri." 

"I  think  you  must  be;"  and  the  mother's  eyes 
grew  anxious. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

SOMETHING   OP  A  HERO. 

WHEN  Mr.  Peter  Dow  received  an  invitation  to  the 
Villa  Ricci  he  regarded  it  as  a  special  grace,  since  he 
had  failed  to  win  from  the  Duchess  Faviola  anything 
more  than  an  expression  of  the  general  hope  that 
they  might  meet  somewhere  during  the  summer. 
Then  his  maxim,  like  a  white-winged  angel,  had 
beckoned  him  to  a  phantom  seat  where  he  should 
as  usual  "  sit  down  to  get  there."  And  now,  lo  !  the 
unfolding  hours  had  either  brought  to  him  the  oppor- 
tunity for  which  he  was  waiting,  or  had  carried  him 
abreast  of  the  coveted  chance  ;  he  knew  not  which  it 
was,  nor  did  he  care. 

He  was  more  powerfully  impressed  than  ever  with 
the  fact  that  his  maxim  rested  upon  a  great  principle; 
and  going  to  the  Piazza-di-Spagna  he  decorated  him- 
self with  a  blushing  rose  such  as  had  often  rested 
upon  the  heart  of  her  to  whom  a  beneficent  fate 
seemed  to  be  canning  him.  Then  jauntily  swinging 
up  the  hill  leading  to  the  Pincio,  he  found  a  shaded 
seat  near  the  fountain  which  splashes  upon  the 
chubby  little  Moses  in  his  wicker  ark,  and  settling 
himself  comfortably  he  re-read  Madame  Andrews 
most  welcome  invitation. 


SOMETHING   OF  A   HERO.  305 

"  My  cousin  and  her  husband  are  with  us,"  she  wrote, 
"  and  we  are  bronzing  ourselves  like  your  Indians  with 
our  outdoor  life.  But  my  father  is  scarcely  inclined  for  as 
much  exercise  as  the  rest  of  us,  and  thus  occurs  an  "  open- 
ing," as  you  sometimes  say,  for  a  congenial  friend  who 
will  enjoy  our  quiet  and  informal  life,  and  share  our  pleas- 
ure in  this  respite  from  society.  Do  we  mistake  in  turn- 
ing to  you  to  complete  our  party  ?  If  not,  send  me  a  line 
to  announce  your  early  arrival." 

Agatha  had  been  consulted  about  the  invitation, 
but  instantly  fathoming  its  purpose,  had  assented 
without  hinting  at  the  surprise  she  would  otherwise 
have  felt ;  for  Mercede,  while  civil  enough  to  Mr.  Dow, 
had  never  shown  any  special  desire  for  his  society. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  Count  enjoyed  the  compan- 
ionship of  the  American,  who  had  a  fund  of  quaint 
anecdotes  of  which  the  former  never  tired;  and  this 
fact  gave  Mercede  an  excuse  for  her  proposal.  Loreno 
was  indifferent,  but  readily  accepted  Mercede's  right 
to  invite  any  one  whom  she  chose  to  her  home.  And 
thus  a  week  from  the  day  the  plan  was  broached, 
Mr.  Peter  Dow  became  the  guest  of  General  Ricci 
and  his  distinguished  daughter. 

The  new-comer,  however,  scarcely  fulfilled  the 
expectations  of  his  hostess.  He  early  developed  a 
tendency  to  wander  off  on  his  own  account,  and  when 
no  pre-arrangement  was  made  he  vanished  with  vexa- 
tious regularity  in  the  direction  of  the  Villa  Faviola. 
One  afternoon,  a  few  days  after  his  arrival,  he  found 
the  Duchess  alone  and  evidently  preoccupied ;  for 
although  she  tried'  to  sustain  a  conversation  with  her 
visitor,  it  was  evidently  not  easy  for  her  to  do  so. 

20 


306  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Seeing  this,  Mr.  Dow  was  about  to  make  an  excuse 
for  returning  to  the  Villa  Ricci,  when  he  summoned 
up  courage  to  ask  if  Gaeta  were  at  home. 

"Yes,  I  think  she  is  at  the  coffee-house,"  the 
Duchess  replied ;  "  at  least,  she  went  in  that 
direction." 

*«  Is  the  Duke  with  her  ?  " 

"  No,  she  is  alone." 

"  Would  you  mind  my  strolling  over  your  lovely 
place  ?  " 

"  Go,  by  all  means,  if  you  wish  to ;  but  it 's  rather 
warm,  and  you  '11  pardon  me  if  I  remain  here,  won't 
you  ?  " 

"  Certainly  ;  I  may  look  Gaeta  up  later." 

"  Yes,  do  so,"  was  the  quick  response ;  for  the 
Duchess  was  not  sorry  to  have  her  daughter's  mediT 
tations  disturbed,  while  she  had  hesitated  to  be  the 
intruder. 

Mr.  Dow's  pretence  of  taking  a  roundabout  course 
to  the  coffee-house  was  a  hollow  fraud,  and  with- 
in ten  minutes  he  stood  behind  the  pensive  figure 
of  Gaeta  seated  upon  a  bench  near  the  spot  where, 
as  the  Duchess  had  told  him,  Loreno  and  Agatha  had 
come  the  day  they  first  met. 

As  Mr.  Dow  went  forward  Gaeta  sighed  and  turned 
listlessly. 

"  You  have  certainly  chosen  a  charming  spot  for 
a  retreat,"  he  said,  lifting  his  hat,  "  but  is  n't  it  a 
trifle  warm?"  and  he  regarded  solicitously  the  dark 
head  bared  to  the  powerful  sun. 

"  Oh,  it  does  n't  make  any  difference,"  said  Gaeta, 
sadly. 


SOMETHING  OF  A   HERO.  307 

"No?" 

"No;  I'm  indifferent." 

He  took  a  chair  near  her,  braving  the  sun  for  the 
sake  of  his  purpose,  and  sat  looking  at  her  silently 
for  a  minute  or  two. 

"  What  makes  you  so  reckless  ?  "  he  ventured. 

u  Trouble,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

"  '  Trouble '  ?     Why,  what  has  gone  wrong  ?  " 

"  I  'm  not  understood." 

"  What  a  pity  !  I  wish  I  might  help  you." 

"  It 's  too  late,"  and  her  tone  was  lugubrious. 

Mr.  Dow  lacked  nothing  of  sympathy,  but  he  was 
utterly  non-plussed. 

"It  is  never  too  late,"  he  remarked  on  general 
principles. 

"  Then  it 's  you  who  are  too  late,"  she  said 
cynically. 

His  heart  gave  a  bound.  Could  the  misunder- 
standing refer  to  him  ? 

"  Let  me  understand  you  clearly,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  In  what  way  am  I  too  late  ?  " 

"  The  storm  has  broken,  and  no  one  can  recall  its 
shock." 

"Who  is  at  the  other  end  of  the  storm?"  he  in- 
quired, trying  to  grasp  the  facts  without  sacrificing 
the  metaphor. 

"  You  would  n't  believe  me  if  I  told  you ;  no  one 
would  —  it 's  too  unnatural." 

"  You  know  how  much  your  friend  I  am." 

"  Yes ;  but  if  love  be  but  a  name,  what  a  mockery 
is  friendship." 

He  sank  back  into  his  chair  bewildered.     He  tried 


308  AGATHA   PAGE. 

twice  before  he  could  command  his  voice.  "  Has 
some  one  been  deceiving  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  even  that  would  have  been  better." 

44  Who  has  hurt  you  so,  —  a  man,  or  a  woman  ?  " 

She  continued  to  look  far  off  upon  the  opposite 
hills  without  replying.  Then  she  said  stoically, 
44  Never  mind." 

His  heart  was  deeply  stirred  by  her  misery,  and  he 
failed  to  see  the  childishness  of  her  mood.  Moving 
nearer,  he  leaned  forward  and  tried  to  look  into  her 
face. 

44  When  did  it  occur?"  he  inquired  sympathetically. 

"  After  luncheon." 

44  Did  any  stranger  lunch  with  you  ?  " 

"  No." 

44  Then  the  trouble  was,  as  it  were,  domestic  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

44  In  that  case  I  ought  not  to  press  the  matter." 
He  waited,  and  then  moved  a  trifle  nearer.  44  Ga- 
eta,"  he  said  nervously,  "  my  dear  Gaeta,  I  wish  I 
had  the  right  — "  as  he  called  her  by  her  Christian 
name  she  turned  and  looked  at  him  in  a  way  that 
quite  disconcerted  him,  — 44  I  wish,  I  say,  that  I  had 
the  right,"  he  steadied  himself  and  proceeded  boldly, 
44  to  share  even  your  domestic  trials." 

44  It 's  very  kind  of  you,  and  in  a  world  of  dis- 
appointment a  stanch  friend  is  not  to  be  under- 
valued." 

44 1  am  some  years  older  than  you  are,  Gaeta  — 

44 1  know  that,"  she  interrupted  with  marked  dig- 
nity, 44  or  I  should  n't  permit  you  to  address  me  so 
familiarly." 


SOMETHING   OF  A    HERO.  309 

"  Yet  you  know  that  a  companion  of  experience  is 
often  a  wise  counsellor  and  guide." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so  ;  and  I  '11  tell  you  frankly  that 
I  'd  trust  you  in  this  especial  thing  before  any  one 
else  in  the  world,  not  excepting  Aunt^Agatha." 

He  stared  at  her  in  amazement. 

"And  the  reason  I'd  trust  you,"  she  continued,  "is 
because  we  spoke  of  the  matter  once  before,  and  I 
won  you  over  to  my  side,  and  you  've  been  perfectly 
lovely  ever  since." 

"  Have  I  ?  "  he  murmured. 

"I  need  advice  to-day,"  she  continued  freely;  "I 
feel  that  I  need  it  very  much,  and  as  you  are  a  man, 
and  say  you  'd  be  glad  to  aid  a  helpless  girl,  I  've 
half  a  mind  to  confide  in  you." 

His  heart  was  sinking,  but  his  consequent  gravity 
seemed  to  her  quite  appropriate. 

"  You  've  heard  about '  The  Pilgrimage  of  the  Rose,' 
to  be  given  at  Varese  on  Aunt  Agatha's  festa  ?  " 

Although  his  throat  was  dry,  he  managed  to  utter 
the  expected  assent. 

"Well,  it's  really  about  that,  but  indirectly  about 
something  —  "  she  looked  again  steadily  at  the  hills 
—  "  about  some  one  else." 

Hope  fluttered  again  in  his  heart,  and  he  waited 
eagerly. 

"  Mamma,  like  all  mothers,  I  suppose,  is  always  on 
the  alert  to  guard  her  daughter  from  committing  some 
faux  pas,  and  to-day  she  went  too  far ; "  and  the  dark 
eyes  grew  bright  with  indignation. 

He  did  not  trust  his  voice,  but  his  face  convinced 
her  of  his  sympathy. 


310  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  Yes  ;  I  regret  to  say  such  a  thing,  but  mamma 
forgot  herself." 

"  Indeed  ! " 

"  You  know,  of  course,  that  Madame  Andrd  is  get- 
ting up  some  tableaux  to  illustrate  the  music,  and 
she  very  kindly  asked  me  to  be  the  Rose.  Now,  of 
course  I  'm  going  to  the  festa,  and  the  rehearsals 
would  only  take  me  to  Varese  a  few  days  earlier,  and 
Aunt  Agatha  urged  mamma  to  let  me  go  with  her 
when  she  goes,  and  —  and  mamma  simply  won't.'" 

"  She  has  some  good  reason,  I  suppose." 

"  That 's  what  one  would  suppose  ;  that 's  what  I 
supposed,  and  that's  what  I  must  deny.  Her  reason 
is  shocking ! " 

The  listener  pursed  his  lips,  but  discreetly  kept 
silent. 

"At  first  she  was  merely  negative,  —  and  mamma 
can  be  negative  and  positive  at  the  same  time,  —  but 
little  by  little  I  got  at  the  truth  ;  it 's  because  she 
has  your  old  prejudice  against  Signor  Veltri." 

"  Ah  !  he  lead's  the  orchestra,  does  n't  he  ?  " 

"  He   leads   the   orchestra ;  and   naturally  he  will 
also  be  there  a  few  days  before  the  performance,"  - 
she  turned  away  her  flushed  face,  —  "and   mamma 
does  n't  think  it  nice  for  me  to  be  so  friendly  with 
one  whom  she  calls  a  mere  music-teacher." 

Mr.  Dow  smiled  slightly  in  spite  of  his  low  spirits. 
"  Egad  !  she 's  in  the  dock  this  time,  and  things  have 
a  different  look  to  her,"  he  thought.  He  failed,  how- 
ever, to  understand  how  the  Duchess  had  committed 
the  indiscretion  of  stating  her  objections  so  frankly; 
so  he  questioned  Gaeta  on  this  point. 


SOMETHING   OF  A   HERO.  311 

"  I  saw  through  her  veiled  objection  in  a  moment," 
she  said, "  and  hating  nonsense,  I  put  the  truth  to  her, 
and  she  could  n't  deny  it ;  and  so  I  left  her  and  came 
out  here  to  have  a  good  cry." 

Peter  Dow  rose  abruptly,  and  walking  to  the  wall 
on  the  brink  of  the  steep  fall  to  the  valley,  stood 
leaning  upon  it  for  fully  five  minutes,  reasoning  with 
himself  and  trying  to  regain  his  self-control.  Pres- 
ently he  turned  back  and  went  to  the  young  girl. 
His  eye  shone  kindly,  and  he  answered  her  inquir- 
ing look  with  a  slight  smile. 

"  Gaeta,  my  child,"  he  said  firmly,  "  I  understand 
it  all  now,  and  perhaps  I  can  help  you.  Will  you 
trust  so  delicate  a  mission  in  my  hands  ? " 

"  Yes,  if  you  are  willing  to  bother  about  the  troubles 
of  a  mere  girl  like  me." 

"  Yes,  I  'm  quite  willing,"  and  there  was  a  quality 
in  his  voice  which  she  failed  to  understand.  "  'If  you 
don't  win,  at  least  cheer  the  victor,'  is  my  motto,"  he 
continued  somewhat  blindly  ;  "  and  I  '11  try  to  say  a 
good  word  for  our  friend  Veltri,  and  rescue  a  sweet 
rose  from  a  frost  that  threatens  to  nip  it  in  the 
bud." 

"  How  will  you  manage  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  without  thinking  it  over ;  but  if  you 
wish  to  help  me,  you  must  be  good  friends  with  your 
mother  and  avoid  seeming  to  take  her  words  too 
much  to  heart." 

"  But  mamma  reflected  upon  Signer  Veltri ;  and  I 
want  her  and  every  one  to  know  that  I  'in  willing,  if 
it 's  necessary,  to  stand  right  up  and  say  that  I  'm  his 
friend." 


312  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  I  don't  doubt  it ;  but  that  is  n't  necessary,  and 
under  the  circumstances  it  wouldn't  be  friendly." 

The  young  girl  remained  silent,  evidently  consid- 
ering his  words. 

"  I  agree  with  you,-'  she  replied  presently,  "  and 
I  '11  act  upon  your  advice."  Then  turning  impul- 
sively, she  put  both  of  her  hands  into  his,  and  added 
fervently,  — 

"  Thank  you  so  much,  you  dear  old  friend  I  " 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FRANCESCO'S   FRIEND. 

IT  was  the  afternoon  of  the  feast  of  the  Virgin,  and 
the  guests  at  the  Villa  Ricci  went  with  their  offerings 
to  the  little  church  of  San  Pietro,  where,  in  obedience 
to  an  ancient  custom,  the  parishioners  were  gathered 
in  force  to  participate  in  the  ceremony. 

Although  simple  in  its  furnishing,  the  church  was 
made  gay  with  crimson  hangings  and  flowers,  while 
many  candles  illumined  the  building,  from  which  the 
sunlight  had  been  shut  out. 

A.S  is  usual  in  northern  Italy,  there  were  rows  of 
wooden  benches  for  the  congregation,  and  these  were 
filled  with  swarthy  men  and  boys,  and  bright-eyed 
women  and  girls,  the  heads  of  all  females  being  cov- 
ered with  shawls  or  scarfs  of  bright  colors.  An  ex- 
cellent copy  of  Guido  Reni's  Crucifixion  —  a  gift  from 
the  Count  Ricci — hung  over  the  first  altar  to  the 
left,  while  on  either  side  of  the  chancel  were  two 
interesting  frescos,  one  illustrating  the  conversion  of 
Saint  Paul,  the  other  Christ  blessing  the  Apostles. 
The  altar  was  of  gray  marble,  and  this  had  been  dec- 
orated with  lovely  flowers  sent  by  Agatha's  orders 
from  Varese  that  morning,  while  about  the  chancel- 
rail  of  red  marble  the  Duchess  and  Gaeta  had  wound 
garlands  of  white  roses. 


314  AGATHA   PAGE. 

After  vespers  had  been  sung,  Padre  Sacconi  an- 
nounced that  offerings  would  now  be  received.  Then 
the  people  filled  the  aisle  and  moved  slowly  to  the 
altar,  before  which  they  left  their  gifts,  while  the 
organ  pealed  merrily,  and  the  priest  sprinkled  holy 
water  upon  the  procession.  Mr.  Dow,  who  had  never 
before  seen  this  ceremony,  noted  the  gifts  with  great 
interest.  There  was  every  sort  of  produce,  all  deco- 
rated with  nosegays;  some  givers  offering  only  a 
gourd  or  a  turnip,  in  which,  however,  a  sum  of  money 
was  known  to  be  hid.  The  richer  members  of  the 
parish  bore  gifts  of  greater  value,  from  wax  torches 
to  pieces  of  plate. 

When  all  the  donors  had  regained  their  places, 
Padre  Sacconi  blessed  the  gifts,  and  then  (as  was  his 
privilege)  proceeded  to  select  one  for  himself.  The 
choice  was  watched  with  anxiety  and  hope  by  all, 
and  a  murmur  of  approval  arose  as  the  honored  father 
selected  a  little  linnet  in  a  cage,  which  a  child  had 
brought. 

Then  he  announced  that  in  accordance  with  cus- 
tom the  offerings  would  be  sold  to  the  highest  bidder, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  church,  and  he  exhorted  thoso 
present  to  bid  often  and  liberally.  In  the  sale  which 
followed  each  youth  tried  to  gain  possession  of  the 
gift  of  his  sweetheart,  the  result  telling  many  a  deep 
secret  and  causing  many  a  pretty  blush.  The  gourds 
and  turnips  created  genuine  excitement,  but  were 
usually  captured  by  their  donors,  unless  the  sum  bid 
exceeded  the  sum  of  money  hidden  within  them,  in 
which  event  the  buyer  was  the  object  of  great  laugh- 
ter. And  now  a  rich  mouchoir-case,  which  Agatha 


FRANCESCO'S  FRIEND.  315 

had  made,  was  put  up  ;  and  Mr.  Dow,  whose  mercan- 
tile spirit  was  revived,  and  who  permitted  nothing 
to  go  cheap,  girded  his  loins  anew.  As  Loreno  bid, 
Mr.  Dow  followed  him ;  and  thus  they  vied  with 
each  other  until  the  prize  reached  a  figure  at  which 
Filippo  thought  it  best  to  resign,  leaving  Mr.  Dow 
in  possession. 

Agatha  was  greatly  disappointed,  for  she  had  made 
the  case  for  Filippo.  Yet  she  gave  no  sign  of  her 
regret,  and  was  grateful  that  she  had  not  when  Mr. 
Dow,  bringing  his  prize  to  her,  said,  — 

"  Now,  Marchesa,  you  can  make  your  husband  a 
veritable  gift ;  no,  don't  decline  it !  I  bought  it  with 
that  idea." 

There  was  no  time  for  further  words,  for  he  placed 
it  in  her  hands  and  turned  eagerly  toward  the  priest 
to  bid  on  Gaeta's  gift.  It  was  a  gold  pencil,  and 
Mr.  Dow,  who  was  over-anxious,  occasioned  wonder- 
ment as  he  exclaimed  hastily  and  in  English,  — 

"  I  bid  twenty-five  dollars  !  " 

"I  said  twenty-five  dollars  !  "  he  repeated,  as  Padre 
Sacconi  paused,  bewildered  by  the  unfamiliar  tongue. 

"  You  mean  lire,  I  think,"  suggested  Gaeta,  behind 
him. 

"  No,  I  don't,"  he  persisted  ;  "  I  mean  dollars." 

"  Why,  that 's  ever  so  many  lire,"  she  said. 

"Well,  I  'm  crushing  opposition,"  he  replied,  with 
a  nod.  "  Let — me  —  see,"  he  continued,  as  the  priest 
waited  expectantly.  "  Five  times  five  —  twenty- 
five  ;  five  times  two  —  ten  ;  and  two  are  twelve  — 
oh,  call  it  one  hundred  and  fifty  lire  !  "  he  announced 
aloud  in  Italian. 


316  AGATHA   PAGE. 

The  peasants  looked  at  him  as  though  he  were 
crazy.  "  The  Signore  offers  a  year's  rent  for  a 
pencil-case,"  they  said  one  to  another. 

There  was  naturally  no  opposition,  and  he  serenely 
tucked  away  his  prize  in  his  pocket.  "  I  'd  like  to 
keep  it  myself,"  he  thought ;  "  but  when  you  've 
once  put  your  hand  to  the  plough,  it 's  a  bad  habit  to 
look  back." 

Presently  a  small  wax  figure  made  by  Mercede 
was  offered  for  sale,  and  again  Mr.  Dow  and  Loreno 
were  rivals ;  but  this  time  Loreno  showed  no  sign 
of  faltering,  and  fairly  routed  his  rival. 

As  Mercede  turned  and  looked  into  his  eyes  her 
own  eyes  sparkled,  and  her  color  was  uncommonly 
high. 

"  I  think  I  '11  go  now,"  said  Agatha,  gravely. 

"  I  shall  wait  to  buy  the  drawing  Francesco  made,'' 
Mercede  replied. 

But  Agatha  was  too  much  hurt  to  regard  appear- 
ances, and  without  another  word  moved  away. 
Seeing  Filippo  about  to  follow  her,  Mercede  laid 
her  hand  upon  his  arm.  "  Wait,  won't  you  ?  "  she 
said;  "I  have  counted  on  you  to  bid  on  the  picture 
for  me.  I  am  sure  Mr.  Dow  will  gladly  go  with 
Agatha." 

"  Certainly,"  Mr.  Dow  replied,  hastening  after  the 
retreating  figure. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  buy  Agatha's  gift  also  ?  "  M<r- 
cede  asked  in  a  low  voice  ;  "  you  should  have  done 
so,  in  spite  of  that  idiot." 

"  I  thought  I  should  contribute  enough  by  buying 
this  statue." 


FRANCESCO'S  FRIEND.  317 

"  Oh,  you  men  !  you  men  !  "  and  Mercede  tapped 
her  foot  impatiently. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait  before  Francesco's 
drawing  was  displayed. 

"  Bid  ten  francs  for  me,"  Mercede  whispered,  "and 
then  find  Francesco  and  we  will  go." 

Loreno  made  the  bid,  which  was  instantly  answered 
by  another  for  double  the  amount. 

They  looked  at  each  other  incredulously. 

"  Bid  twenty-five,"  she  whispered. 

"  Fifty !  "  answered  the  strange  voice  from  the 
other  side  of  the  church. 

"Who  is  it?"  asked  Mercede;  "the  drawing  is 
of  no  value." 

"  Shall  I  bid  again  ?  "  Filippo  inquired. 

"  No,"  she  said ;  "  if  some  one  else  wishes  it,  let 
it  go." 

As  she  rose  to  her  feet  to  leave  the  church,  she 
looked  toward  the  purchaser  to  see  who  he  was  ;  she 
saw  Francesco  talking  to  a  gentleman,  as  they  both 
examined  the  sketch,  and  at  that  moment  the  stran- 
ger looked  up  and  their  eyes  met. 

Mercede  stood  as  though  petrified,  her  cheek 
blanched,  her  lips  slightly  parted. 

"  What's  the  matter?"  Filippo  asked  in  alarm. 

When  she  spoke,  it  was  with  great  effort. 

"  I  was  looking  for  Francesco,"  she  said ;  "  but 
never  mind  —  let  us  go." 

.The  following  morning  General  Ricci  received  a 
visitor.  He  was  a  square-shouldered  man  of  about 
thirty-three  years  ;  his  eyes  were  blue,  he  wore  a  large 


318  AGATHA    PAGE. 

moustache,  and  his  bearing  was  soldierly.  He  came 
to  the  villa  on  foot,  and  upon  receiving  his  card  the 
General  gave  orders  that  he  should  be  shown  to 
the  library.  They  were  together  for  more  than  an 
hour,  when  the  General  went  upstairs  and  presently 
returned  with  Mercede  ;  then  another  hour  passed 
before  the  door  was  swung  open,  and  the  General 
accompanied  his  visitor  to  the  loggia  where  the  oth- 
ers were  sitting. 

The  stranger  was  not  only  a  handsome  man,  but 
there  was  also  something  essentially  easy  and  amia- 
ble about  him  that  prepossessed  one  in  his  favor.  As 
he  bowed  and  walked  away,  Francesco  came  around 
the  corner  of  the  house,  and  catching  sight  of  his 
friend  of  the  previous  night  ran  joyously  toward  him. 

"That's  a  friend  I  haven't  seen  for  years,"  ex- 
claimed the  General  as  he  joined  the  others ;  "  and 
here  he  turns  up  straight  from  Africa,  where  he 's 
been  burying  himself ;  and  strangest  of  all,  happen- 
ing in  at  the  church  last  night  he  made  friends  with 
Francesco,  and  then  discovered  that  he  was  talking 
with  a  grandson  of  mine." 

While  the  General  was  speaking,  the  visitor  was 
chatting  with  Francesco  as  they  walked  away  hand 
in  hand. 

After  waiting  a  few  moments,  Filippo  entered  the 
house  and  looked  into  the  drawing-room.  It  was 
empty,  and  he  went  to  the  library.  No  one  was  there, 
and  he  wandered  on  through  the  other  rooms  with 
growing  dissatisfaction. 

"  I  wonder  where  Mercede  is,"  he  muttered.  "  It 
doesn't  seem  reasonable  that  my  thoughtlessness 


FRANCESCO'S  FRIEND.  819 

about  the  mouchoir-case  could  so  upset  her.  Yet 
she  certainly  has  not  been  herself  since  last  night.  I 
wish  she  would  come  down !  "  he  said  half  aloud. 
"  I  believe  I  '11  send  and  ask  her  to  go  for  a  walk/' 

Thereupon  he  rang  the  bell  and  sent  his  invita- 
tion ;  but  the  maid  brought  back  word  that  Madame 
Andre'  was  resting,  and  begged  to  be  excused.  He 
was  disappointed,  and  inclined  to  be  cross.  Going  to 
the  library,  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair  near  the 
window  and  tried  to  read ;  but  he  found  his  eyes 
wandering  from  the  book,  and  his  thoughts  reverting 
to  Mercede  "  resting  "  in  the  room  over  his  head. 
"  It 's  a  strange  way  to  rest ! "  he  exclaimed  half 
aloud,  for  the  sound  of  footsteps  in  her  room,  as  of 
some  one  walking  back  and  forth,  did  not  cease. 

Meroede  was  pacing  the  room,  her  face  drawn,  her 
eyes  burning.  Now  and  again  she  would  sob  con- 
vulsively, as  though  her  nerves  were  unstrung,  and 
several  times  she  wrung  her  hands  in  helpless  an- 
guish. She  had  expected  the  visitor,  and  was  quite 
prepared  to  be  summoned  to  the  library ;  but  for 
the  question  suddenly  laid  before  her  she  had  not 
fortified  herself. 

"  This  gentleman  is  now  a  colonel,"  her  father 
had  said  to  her  after  she  had  bowed  formally  to  the 
visitor,  ignoring  the  hand  he  extended. 

"  Mercede,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  acted  shamefully 
toward  you  and  the  child.  I  have  come  to  ask  your 
pardon,  and  to  do  what  I  can  to  repair  the  wrong 
you  have  suffered.  My  uncle  is  dead,  and  with  his 
property  the  title  of  Baron  has  come  to  me.  I  have 
not  played  a  game  of  cards  since  you  last  saw  me, 


320  AGATHA   PAGE. 

nor  have  I  a  debt.  Will  you  not  let  me  make 
amends  to  you  and  the  child?" 

"  You  may  not  be  aware,  sir,"  was  the  cold  re- 
sponse, "  that  I  have  made  a  name  far  more  honored 
than  yours,  and  far  more  to  be  prized  by  my  son 
than  a  title ;  therefore  we  are  now  independent  of 
you.  Furthermore,  I  am  no  longer  a  mere  woman, 
but  an  artist ;  and  my  art  is  sufficient  unto  itself." 

"  That  cannot  be,  Mercede,"  interposed  her  hus- 
band ;  "  your  art  has  only  what  you  bestow  upon  it. 
Its  effect  is  relative  to  its  borrowed  power ;  through 
it  you  lift  or  cripple  those  to  whom  you  appeal.  Your 
art  is  most  sensitive  to  your  life,  and  the  nearer  you 
fashion  your  life  to  God's  natural  laws,  not  only  the 
more  happy  you  will  be  as  a  woman,  but  the  more 
influence  you  will  have  as  an  artist ! " 

"  You  will  pardon  me  if  I  deny  point-blank  that 
marriage  has  any  effect  upon  art  except  a  mischiev- 
ous effect." 

"  You  misunderstand  me,"  he  explained.  "  Of 
course  marriage  bears  no  direct  relation  to  art,  but 
character  does ;  and  I  say  that  your  life  has  been 
gnarled  and  unsymmetrical,  that  it  must  have  affected 
your  character  and  been  woven  into  your  art.  What  I 
urge  is,  that  you  should  make  your  life  as  near  the 
ideal  life  of  a  woman  as  is  possible,  if  yon  would  catch 
the  living  spirit  of  Truth  and  stamp  it  upon  your 
•work." 

"I  don't  understand  you,"  she  said  indifferently; 
"  and,  any  way,  all  this  seems  irrelevant.  Be  good 
enough  to  come  back  to  the  original  subject." 

*•  You  have  missed  the  .application  of  what  I  said  ; 


FRANCESCO'S  FRIEND.  321 

I  hoped  to  show  you  that  even  in  your  art-life  the 
resuming  of  your  full  wifely  relations  would  serve 
your  purpose  better  than  the  life  you  propose 
leading." 

"  I  do  not  agree  with  you,"  was  the  firm  reply. 

"But,  Mercede,  for  God's  sake  don't  be  rash!" 
exclaimed  her  father.  "  Think  of  your  son !  " 

"  He  being  my  son,  the  son  of  Mercede  Andre 
needs  nothing  and  asks  nothing,"  was  the  proud 
answer. 

"  But,"  asked  the  visitor,  "  will  Francesco  think  so 
when  he  is  no  longer  a  boy?" 

She  drew  herself  up  haughtily.  "  God  only  knows 
what  he  may  become,  with  such  blood  as  is  in  him  ! " 

"  I  have  n't  come  to  anger  you,  Mercede,"  was  the 
soft  answer,  "  and  I  wish  we  might  consider  this 
grave  matter  without  bitterness." 

"  So  we  may,  sir,  if  you  and  my  honored  father 
will  only  grasp  the  question  as  it  is.  Once  I  was 
dependent  upon  my  father ;  now  I  am  not.  Once  I 
was  dependent  upon  you  ;  now  I  am  not.  I  have 
made  —  unaided  —  position,  money,  and  an  honored 
name.  You  come  and  ask  me  to  sacrifice  the  result 
of  my  labor  by  exchanging  independence  for  a  bond 
from  which  I  have  worked  so  hard  to  escape  ;  to 
take  again  a  name  I  have  striven  to  bury  ;  to  ac- 
cept a  condition  it  has  been  my  aim  to  annihilate. 
Ask  this  for  my  own  sake,  and  I  laugh  at  you :  you 
are  wise,  therefore,  in  asking  in  the  name  of  Fran- 
cesco ;  for  his  sake,  I  should,  perhaps,  consider  before 
refusing." 

"  Cannot   you    forgive    me,    Mercede  ? "    and    he 

21 


322  AGATHA   PAGE. 

looked  at  her  yearningly.  "  It  is  not  duty  alone,  but 
love  that  brings  me  back.  Once  you  came  to  me  of 
your  own  free-will ;  you  obeyed  your  heart.  Will 
the  old  love  avail  me  nothing  now  ?  Let  me  try  to 
bring  it  back  to  life.  It  was  only  when  temptation 
overcame  me  that  its  fulness  and  sincerity  were 
challenged.  For  my  conduct  I  offer  no  excuse,  yet 
can  I  never  atone  for  it?  That  you  have  suffered 
terribly  I  know,  and  this  knowledge  has  scourged  me 
through  all  these  years.  Only  my  determination  to 
wait  until  I  had  something  to  offer  you  and  the  child 
has  kept  me  from  coming  to  you  long  before.  I  am 
again  regarded  with  respect  as  a  man  and  as  an 
officer  ;  I  am  wealthy  ;  I  am  able  to  offer  you  a  posi- 
tion equal  to  your  own.  As  a  husband,  I  feel  that  I 
can  make  some  amends  for  the  past ;  as  a  father,  that 
I  can  aid  you  in  making  our  son  what  you  would 
have  him,  and  thus  secure  your  present  joy  in  him." 

Such  words  could  not  fail  to  impress  her.  As  she 
listened,  her  face  lost  its  hardness,  and  for  the  first 
time  she  kept  her  eyes  upon  the  speaker. 

"  If,"  he  continued,  "  you  have  not  a  spark  of  love 
left  for  me,  —  which  God  forbid  !  —  still  let  the  lad's 
love  be  mine.  Give  him  a  father  and  me  a  son.  Be 
generous,  Mercede.  Don't  visit  the  sin  of  the  father 
upon  the  child  I  Don't  for  pride's  sake  risk  the 
future  of  your  child" 

She  started.  His  words  were  the  very  words  with 
which  Filippo  had  warned  her  in  Paris.  This  repe- 
tition made  her  superstitious. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that —  about  the  child  ?  " 
she  asked. 


FRANCESCO'S  FRIEND.  323 

"That  a  son  needs  the  guidance  and  advice  of  a 
father  as  well  as  that  of  a  mother ;  and  also,  that  if 
we  live  apart  his  position  will  soon  become  painful 
if  not  intolerable  to  him.  You  call  yourself  Andre  — 
his  name  is  Finelli.  Does  he  never  ask  about  his 
father?" 

"  Sometimes,  in  a  childish  way.  But  if  you  care 
so  much  for  his  happiness,  why  enlighten  his  present 
ignorance  ?  " 

"  Because  he  is  my  son  and  heir." 

"  Born  out  of  wedlock." 

"  Legitimatized  by  our  subsequent  marriage  ;  and 
I  am  his  legal  guardian." 

She  grew  white,  and  stared  at  him  as  the  truth 
rushed  over  her. 

"  Then  you  mean  to  insist  upon  your  rights  as  his 
father?"  " 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  ignore  my  duty  as  his  father." 

"  Whether  I  live  with  you  or  not  ?  " 

"  Your  living  with  me  is  a  matter  which  affects  my 
personal  happiness,  not  my  duty  to  my  son,"  was  the 
firm  answer. 

"  In  other  words,  you  intend  if  possible  to  coerce 
me." 

"  Nothing  is  further  from  my  thoughts.  I  shall 
wait  for  you  to  come  to  me,  longingly  but  patiently." 

"  Will  Francesco  be  taken  from  me  ?  " 

"Not  necessarily.  But  I  shall  expect  to  see  him 
freely,  and  to  have  a  voice  in  his  education  and 
training." 

No  one  broke -the  silence  that  followed,  and  for 
fully  fifteen  minutes  each  sat  buried  in  thought. 


324  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Then  their  further  communication  was  without  bit- 
terness, and  resulted  in  the  granting  to  Mercede  of 
such  time  for  consideration  as  she  might  desire  ;  and 
on  her  part  she  granted  Colonel  Finelli's  wish  to 
come  and  talk  with  her  again  the  following  morning, 
under  the  condition  that  he  would  not  yet  betray  his 
identity. 

As  Mercede  paced  her  room,  thinking  of  this  inter- 
view and  its  results,  the  new  conditions  only  served 
to  quicken  her  passion  for  Filippo.  Fight  against  the 
truth  as  she  would,  the  struggle  was  narrowed  down 
to  her  love  for  him  and  her  love  for  her  child.  She 
knew  well  what  her  duty  was;  and  although  she 
lashed  herself  into  a  fury  at  a  choice  being  forced  upon 
her,  this  did  not  cloud  her  perception.  The  issue 
had  become  too  grave  for  self-deception  of  any  sort. 

"  Yet  why  not  live  with  Ernesto?"  she  asked  her- 
self. "  Why  should  it  interfere  with  my  friendship 
for  Filippo?" 

With  the  rushing,  throbbing  answer  all  further  pre- 
tence or  dodging  was  made  useless.  Every  fibre  of 
her  heart  told  her  that  she  loved  Filippo.  Even  to 
think  of  joining  her  life  to  that  of  any  other  man  was 
abhorrent.  But  Agatha?  Agatha  had  no  reason  to 
complain.  Was  it  not  happiness  enough  to  be  Filip- 
po's  wife  and  the  mother  of  his  children  ?  Surely 
Agatha  need  not  begrudge  the  crumbs  that  fed  a 
famished  heart!  And  Ernesto?  He  was  not  to  be 
considered.  He  had  made  his  bed,  let  him  lie  in  it ! 
And  little  Francesco?  "Good  God,  good  God!" 
was  all  the  distracted  mind  could  answer;  "  what  :s 
to  be  done  ?  what  is  to  be  done  ?  " 


FRANCESCO'S  FRIEND.  325 

Thus  she  communed  hour  after  hour,  until  at  last 
relief  came  in  the  suggestion  of  a  compromise  :  she 
would  take  her  husband  at  his  word,  and  postpone 
either  her  refusal  or  consent.  In  the  mean  time, 
hard  though  it  would  be,  she  would  spare  Francesco 
occasionally  that  he  might  go  to  his  father.  This 
would  at  least  be  a  better  arrangement  than  the  one 
which  had  been  suggested  six  years  before,  when  her 
father,  after  paying  the  lieutenant's  debts,  had  in  vain 
tried  to  reconcile  her  and  her  husband.  Then  the 
young  husband  had  unflinchingly  insisted  that  his 
wife  must  return  to  his  home,  while  she  had  been 
equally  firm  in  refusing.  She  remembered  that  he 
had  quoted  her  letter  implying  that  she  would  return 
to  him  when  his  debts  were  paid ;  to  which  she  had 
replied,  that  after  this  promise  was  made  he  had  stolen 
her  marriage  certificate,  and  used  her  maiden  name  in 
telegraphing  to  her,  thus  insulting  her  beyond  for- 
giveness. In  obedience  to  her  father's  wish  she  had 
gone  to  Rome  to  consider  the  matter  further,  and 
then  her  flight  to  Paris  had  put  an  end  to  the  affair. 
She  did  not  know  that  immediately  after  her  flight 
her  father  had  received  a  most  penitent  letter  from 
the  lieutenant,  to  which  —  in  the  first  flush  of  anger 
—  the  General  had  replied  that  Mercede  was  no 
longer  daughter  of  his.  Yet  she  did  know  that  her 
moral  position  had  become  vastly  stronger,  while  her 
husband's  was  relatively  weaker.  He  came  now  as 
a  suppliant  so  far  as  she  personally  was  concerned, 
and  she  would  take  advantage  of  the  time  offered  her 
and  postpone  giving  an  answer.  The  necessity  for 
this  beating  about  the  bush  was  exasperating,  and  she 


326  AGATHA    PAGE. 

longed  to  dismiss  the  wanderer  and  have  done  with 
him  ;  but  he  was  the  child's  father,  and  she  knew  him 
to  be  a  determined  man.  While  he  had  hope  con- 
cerning her  he  would  be  much  less  exacting  about 
Francesco,  and  she  must  trust  to  future  events  to 
guide  her.  At  present,  time  was  everything. 

The  more  she  considered  this  compromise  the 
calmer  she  became,  until  at  last  her  perturbation  left 
her,  and  she  prepared  to  go  below  and  join  Filippo. 

Francesco  had  conceived  a  great  admiration  for  the 
stalwart  colonel  who  had  talked  with  him  so  amiably 
at  the  church,  who  had  bought  the  picture  of  the 
rabbits  for  fifty  lire  and  liked  it  so  well  that  he  had 
said  he  would  willingly  have  paid  more,  and  who  after 
the  auction  had  walked  as  far  as  the  lodge,  —  so  in- 
terested was  he  in  hearing  of  the  rabbits,  and  the 
white  peacock,  and  the  pony  that  Uncle  Filippo  had 
promised  to  send  from  Varese.  After  their  greeting 
to-day  the  Colonel  suggested  that  as  he  had  walked 
to  the  lodge  last  night,  it  would  be  but  fair  for  Fran- 
cesco to  accompany  him  to  the  lodge  now. 

"  Oh,  but  I  can  show  you  a  short  cut,"  was  the  re- 
ply,—  "by  the  iron  gate." 

"  Which  is  nearer  from  here,  —  the  lodge,  or  the 
gate  ?  " 

"  The  lodge  is  a  little  nearer." 

"  Then  show  me  the  gate,  if  your  rabbits  can 
spare  you." 

"  I  've  just  left  them.  I  don't  suppose  you  'd  care 
to  see  them  now?" 

"  Would  n't  I,  though  !    Rut  T  don't  think  I  will  go 


FRANCESCO'S  FRIEND.  327 

to-day;  but  I  hope  sometime  to  see  them  —  and 
before  very  long,"  he  added  with  a  peculiar  wistful- 
ness  in  his  voice. 

Then  they  chatted  about  birds,  and  this  led  the 
Colonel  to  speak  of  a  parrot  that  he  had  brought  from 
Africa  ;  and  he  told  his  wide-eyed  listener  several 
little  adventures  which  seemed  to  the  boy  to  be 
simply  marvellous. 

"  I  'd  like  to  go  to  Africa  !  "  Francesco  exclaimed. 

"  Would  you  ?     Do  you  know  where  it  is  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  it's  where  the  nigger-minstrels  come  from." 

"  Perhaps  it  is ;  although  the  minstrels  look  to  me 
as  though  they  came  from  London." 

"Are  the  people  of  London  black  like  them?  " 

"  No  ;  but  the  smoke  of  London  makes  one  almost 
as  black  as  the  minstrels." 

"  What  a  jolly  place  !  "  and  the  youngster's  eyes 
glistened.  Then  he  added  with  a  look  of  admiration, 
"  You  've  seen  lots  of  places,  have  n't  you?  " 

"  I  've  travelled  a  little,  and  so  shall  you  when 
you  are  older.'' 

"  My  papa  is  away  travelling,"  Francesco  re- 
marked. 

The  blue-eyed  stranger  glanced  at  him  quickly,  and 
then  his  eyes  lingered  fondly  on  the  innocent  face  as 
the  boy  stood  holding  the  gate  open. 

"  Is  he  ?  "  he  replied. 

"  Yes  ;  he  's  been  away  a  long  time." 

"  Indeed  !  " 

"  I  wish  he  'd  come  back,"  and  the  wish  was  em- 
phasized by  a  little  sigh  ;  "  I  'd  like  to  see  him.  He 
must  know  heaps  of  adventures  by  this  time." 


328  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  Do  you  remember  him  at  all  ?  " 

"  No  ;  that  is,  sometimes  I  think  I  do,  but  mamma 
says  it 's  nonsense." 

"  What  do  you  think  you  remember  about  him?  " 

The  lad  paused,  and  seemed  as  though  trying  to 
recall  a  dream. 

"  I  can  just  remember,  sometimes,  some  one  else  be- 
sides mamma,  and  I  think  he  used  to  take  me  up  with 
him  on  a  horse,  because  I  remember  how  high  it  was  ; 
and  I  know  he  had  spurs,  although  I  did  n't  know  that 
he  only  fastened  them  on,  for  I  was  very  little  when 
he  went  away." 

The  father's  eyes  looked  eagerly  into  those  of  his 
son,  and  his  voice  was  fervent  when  he  spoke.  "  Did 
you  love  him  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  little  chap  closed  his  eyes,  and  had  recourse  to 
the  gentle  hiss  whereby  the  Italian  gives  token  of 
that  which  is  inexpressible. 

"  But  how  can  you  remember  ?  " 

"  Because  I  love  him  now." 

Impulsively — joyously  the  father  bent  down  and 
kissed  the  upturned  face. 

"  God  bless  you,  little  one  ! "  he  said,  —  "  God  bless 
you  for  your  loyalty !  " 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IN  THE  GROVE. 

UPON  going  downstairs  Mercede  went  to  the 
library,  where  Filippo  was  still  sitting  with  a  book 
in  his  hands.  He  rose  instantly,  and  came  toward 
her. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me  for  a  moment,"  she  said 
gravely,  waving  him  off  and  seating  herself  at  the 
writing-table.  "  I  have  a  note  to  write." 

She  took  up  a  pen,  and  quickly  wrote  the  follow- 
ing lines :  — 

My  DEAR  FATHER,  —  This  grave  affair  is  one  which  I 
alone  can  decide,   and  the  knowledge  of  which  I   alone 
should  control.      Therefore  I  write  to  ask  you  neither  to 
mention  it  to  me  nor  to  any  one  without  my  consent. 
Affectionately, 

MERCEDE. 

Enclosing  the  note  in  an  envelope,  she  addressed 
and  sealed  it,  and  going  to  her  father's  room  left  it 
upon  his  table. 

Now  her  heart  was  comparatively  light,  and  as  she 
entered  the  library  again  her  face  wore  the  smile  which 
Filippo  had  missed  since  the  previous  evening. 


330  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  Is  all  your  business  done  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Nearly,  if  not  quite." 

"  I  congratulate  you  !    You  bore  its  weight  badly." 

"  I  hate  business,  and  worry  over  it,  I  know." 

"  Rather  a  nice-looking  fellow,  that  soldier !  "  he 
said  nonchalantly. 

"  Yes,  not  at  all  ill-looking." 

"  Is  he  coming  again  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  he  asked  bluntly. 

"A  friend  of  my  father." 

"  But  you  had  met  him  before  this  morning  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

He  was  silent  again,  playing  with  a  book  upon  the 
table. 

"  He  's  just  from  Africa,  I  believe  ?  " 

"  Yes.  He  has  inherited  some  property  and  a  title, 
—  and  now  is  going  in  for  art." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  "  and  Filippo's  face  brightened. 
"What  sort  of  a  subject  does  he  wish?" 

"  Two  figures." 

"  There  's  your  Tristan  and  Isolde." 

She  hesitated,  and  then  laughing  nervously  re- 
plied, "I  don't  think  that  would  suit  him.  Hagar  and 
Ishmael  would  probably  be  more  to  his  taste." 

"  Is  he  lugubrious,  then  ?  " 

"  Philanthropic  !  But  I  'm  tired  of  business ;  let 's 
go  for  a  row." 

Colonel  Finelli  called  the  following  morning  and 
found  Mercede  awaiting  him.  She  had  on  her  hat, 
and  proposed  that  they  should  walk  away  from  the 


IN   THE   GROVE.  331 

house.  The  suggestion  gave  him  hope,  and  he  cheer- 
fully acquiesced.  Mercede  led  him  out  of  an  ivy- 
covered  door  at  the  back  of  the  house,  and  crossing 
a  court  containing  fountains  and  beds,  of  flowers, 
stepped  upon  the  lawn,  which,  broken  here  and 
there  by  cypress  and  palm  trees,  swept  down  to  the 
grove.  This  part  of  the  wood  was  laid  out  in  huge 
aisles  stretching  far  away  until  lost  in  the  bend  of  the 
grounds.  Making  their  way  across  these,  they  came 
suddenly  upon  a  lovely  outlook.  They  were  upon 
the  edge  of  a  slope  thickly  grown  with  trees;  beneath 
them  the  great  plain  of  Lombardy  stretched  far  away 
to  the  hills  in  the  hazy  distance,  the  fertile  vineyards 
and  poderi  blending  their  harmonious  tints  until  the 
eye  failed  to  distinguish  between  them,  and  turned 
gratefully  aside  to  the  picturesque  silhouette  of 
Alzate-con-Verzago,  its  ancient  tower  seeming  to  be 
upheld  by  the  clouds. 

Mercede  seated  herself  upon  a  rustic  bench,  and 
both  remained  silent.  "  I  should  rejoice  in  this  view 
for  one  reason,  if  for  no  other,"  Mercede  remarked 
presently, — "that  the  trees  shut  out  Visconti's  showy 
monument  and  the  grim  unsightly  pile  of  the  Villa 
Inverigo." 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  cannot 
understand  how  such  a  barrack  is  considered  one  of 
Cagnola's  masterpieces." 

"  The  gods  can  do  no  wrong,  and  Cagnola  was 
deified  by  his  admirers." 

He  longed  to  introduce  the  subject  by  which  his 
thoughts  were  absorbed,  but  patiently  awaited  her 
pleasure. 


332  AGATHA  PAGE. 

Several  times  she  made  up  her  mind  to  suggest  the 
compromise  upon  which  she  had  decided,  but  some- 
how she  found  it  difficult  to  do  so.  As  the  minutes 
passed,  however,  she  realized  that  the  ice  must  be 
broken. 

"  After  so  many  years  of  separation,"  she  began, 
"the  principal  influence  in  the  affair  you  mentioned 
yesterday  is  naturally  our  love  for  Francesco." 

He  watched  her  gravely,  but  made  no  reply. 

"  I  have,  of  course,  given  the  subject  hours  of  most 
anxious  thought,"  she  continued,  "  and  I  feel  that 
with  a  spirit  of  concession  governing  us  both  we  may 
easily  come  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion." 

She  had  spoken  very  slowly  and  distinctly,  —  rather 
as  if  she  were  reciting  a  prearranged  speech,  —  and  as 
she  paused  to  moisten  her  dry  lips  she  was  conscious 
of  being  very  nervous.  Her  listener  inclined  his 
head  as  she  looked  at  him  for  response. 

"  Don't  you  agree  witli  me  ?  "  she  asked,  unable 
to  bear  his  silence. 

"I  am  not  yet  clear  as  to  what  you  have  in 
mind." 

"  Then  I  will  tell  you  simply  and  directly.  It  is 
Francesco  whom  you  love  ;  it  is  Francesco  whom 
you  need,  and  whom  you  can  serve.  As  for  me,  if 
it  were  not  for  the  boy  I  would  not  consider  it." 

She  paused,  but  he  only  inclined  his  head  again. 

"  But  for  the  child's  sake  I  am  willing  to  consider 
the  question  of  waiving  my  —  well,  my  indifference, 
provided  by  so  doing  I  do  not  lose  the  results  of  the 
terrible  struggle  I  have  made  since  you  —  since  we 
parted." 


IN   THE   GROVE.  333 

"  For  which,"  he  said,  repeating  the  words  he  had 
used  the  day  before,  "  I  scourge  myself  day  and 
night." 

She  raised  her  eyebrows  slightly.  "  Be  that  as  it 
may,  the  fact  remains  that  I  no  longer  need  you." 

"  But,  Mercede  —  " 

"  Nor  do  you  need  me." 

He  leaned  toward  her,  his  eyes  bent  earnestly 
upon  hers  and  his  hands  trembling.  "  As  God  is  my 
judge,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  do  assure  you —  " 

"  Pray  remain  calm,"  she  interposed;  "  we  can  dis- 
cuss the  matter  much  more  satisfactorily  without 
excitement." 

"  But  is  your  love  truly  dead  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Is 
there  no  living  ember  left  ?  " 

"  The  sentiment  I  had,"  she  replied  with  corrective 
emphasis,  "although  it  survived  disgrace,  was  scarcely 
likely  to  survive  insult." 

The  calm  reply  struck  deep,  and  his  eyes  fell. 

''•  Am  I  to  understand,"  he  said  presently,  "  that 
you  will  not  consent  to  live  with  me  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,  —  I  cannot !  " 

"  Oh,  Mercede  !  "  and  his  voice  showed  the  depth 
of  his  disappointment. 

"  If  you  wish  to  withdraw  your  offer  of  time  to  me, 
pray  do  so,"  she  said  quietly  ;  "  or  if  you  wish  further 
time  to  consider  this  subject,  by  all  means  take  it." 

"  I  need  no  time  !  "  he  exclaimed,  rising  and  stand- 
ing before  her.  "  It 's  the  old  question,  and  I  have 
thought  about  it  a  thousand  times.  My  duty  is  to 
do  justice  to  Francesco,  and  I  will  do  it ;  but  my  de- 
sire is  to  prove  my  sincere  love  for  you  as  well  as  for 


334  AGATHA   PAGE. 

him.  I  have  made  your  life  bitter,  Mercede  ;  may  I 
not  make  some  atonement  by  years  of  devotion  ?  I 
cannot  believe  that  the  old  love  is  dead.  We  are 
still  j'oung,  and  I  dare  hope  may  have  many  years  of 
happiness.  I  shall  rejoice  in  your  great  talent,  and 
never  embarrass  your  artistic  career  in  the  slightest 
way.  Although  now  you  feel  that  I  am  nothing  in 
your  life,  my  love  shall  rekindle  yours  !  Your  life 
shall  grow  fuller  and  richer,  and  even  your  art  shall 
be  the  gainer." 

u  I  will  think  about  it,"  was  her  brief  response. 

He  looked  at  her  silently,  and  then  sighed.  "  I 
suppose,"  he  said,  "  that  the  only  course  open  to  me 
is  to  leave  everything  to  your  pleasure." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said  with  chilling  politeness. 

He  lingered,  searching  her  face  for  some  sign  of 
relenting. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  leave  you  and  be  patient,"  he 
said  ;  "  but  may  I  see  Francesco  before  I  go  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  be  guarded.  He  is  at  the  lodge  wait- 
ing for  you." 

He  stepped  forward  quickly,  his  face  bright  with 
hope.  "  This  was  very  thoughtful,  Mercede,"  he 
said. 

"  I  am  not  without  feeling  ;  I  remember  that  you 
are  his  father." 

Impulsively  he  seized  her  hand.  "  Give  me  hope, 
my  darling  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Give  me  hope  that  I 
may  also  be  a  husband  to  you  !  "  He  looked  down 
upon  her  longingly,  hoping  to  seeder  resolution  fal- 
ter ;  but  without  sign  of  relenting  she  withdrew  her 
hand. 


7AT   THE   GROVE.  335 

His  eyes  filled  with  pain.  "  Before  I  return,  Mer- 
cede,"  he  said,  "  try  to  think  more  kindly  of  me,  for 
no  one  on  earth  loves  you  as  I  do." 

"  Possibly,"  she  remarked. 

He  lingered  a  moment  longer ;  then  summoning 
his  strength  of  will  he  turned  away  and  left  her. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE     VILLA     LORE  NO. 

MR.  Dow  felt  the  weight  of  the  responsibility  he 
had  assumed  in  regard  to  Gaeta's  theatrical  career, 
and  having  conned  various  plans  for  the  fulfilment  of 
his  promise,  determined  at  last  to  follow  his  golden 
rule,  and  await  the  development  of  circumstances. 
His  maxim  seemed  fraught  with  fortune,  for  a  few 
days  later  Agatha  opened  his  way. 

It  was  during  a  long  ride,  and  the  Marquis  and 
Mercede  having  galloped  on  ahead,  Mr.  Dow  and 
Agatha  were  left  in  the  rear  together. 

Agatha  had  spoken  of  the  fete  to  be  given  her  at 
Varese  upon  her  birthday,  and  expressed  the  hope 
that  Mr.  Dow  would  arrange  to  be  present.  He  ac- 
cepted with  becoming  gratitude,  and  this  led  them 
to  speak  of  the  preparations  which  were  making. 
Among  the  other  incidents  of  the  occasion,  Agatha 
mentioned  the  "  Pilgrimage  of  the  Rose,"  describing 
the  tableaux  which  were  to  illustrate  the  music. 

"  Who  will  be  the  Rose  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Dow. 

"  Gaeta." 

"  Then  this  is  what  she  referred  to,"  he  said, 
"  when  she  told  me  that  her  mother  objected  to  her 
giving  the  time  necessary  for  rehearsal  at  Vurese." 


THE    VILLA   LORENO.  337 

"  .Did  she?  "  and  Agatha  seemed  perplexed. 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  suspect  that  it  was  on  account  of  your 
charming  conductor,  Signer  Veltri." 

"  What !  the  Duchess  objects  to  him  ?  " 

"  So  I  understood  from  Gaeta." 

"  How  extraordinary  !     Why  ?  " 

"  The  Duchess  thinks  discretion  is  advisable,  I 
believe." 

"  How  absurd !  Did  you  gather  the  impression 
from  Gaeta  that  there  is  any  reason  for  this?  " 

"  Her  mind  seemed  full  of  the  spectacle." 

"  Of  course.  I  '11  see  my  sister-in-law  and  talk 
with  her.  Gaeta  must  keep  the  part,  for  there  is  no 
one  to  take  her  place." 

"  I  hope  you  will  succeed,  for  her  heart  seems  set 
upon  it." 

"  Poor  little  thing !  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  hypocrite,  blandly  ;  "  it  is  n't 
to  be  supposed  that  she  comprehends  her  mother's 
real  reason,  but  all  the  same  it 's  the  worst  possible 
course  to  pursue." 

"  You  are  quite  right ;  the  Duchess  will  simply 
suggest  the  thing  to  her." 

"And  by  making  it  forbidden  fruit,  make  the  temp- 
tation irresistible." 

"  Precisely." 

Thus  it  was  that  Mr.  Dow  sat  quietly  "  waiting  to 
get  there,"  while  Agatha  wound  the  machinery. 

That  same  afternoon  she  walked  over  to  the  Villa 
Faviola,  and  while  the  General,  who  was  her  escort, 
talked  with  the  Duke  in  the  library,  Agatha  argued 
with  her  sister-in-law  in  the  latter's  boudoir.  What- 

22 


338  AGATHA   PAGE. 

ever  form  of  argument  she  chose,  proved  to  be  the 
right  one ;  for  at  the  end  of  thirty  minutes  the 
Duchess  agreed  to  permit  Gaeta  to  go  to  Varese  a 
few  days  before  the  Duke  and  herself,  provided 
Agatha  and  Mr.  Dow  would  watch  her  sufficiently 
to  keep  her  out  of  mischief. 

"  I  shall  be  rather  busy,"  Agatha  rejoined,  "  but 
I  '11  delegate  Mr.  Dow,  who  will  have  nothing  else  to 
do,  to  be  her  guardian  angel  until  you  come." 

This  decision  Mr.  Dow  received  with  preternatural 
gravity,  but  upon  communicating  it  that  same  even- 
ing to  the  eager  Gaeta,  his  features  relaxed. 

Since  Filippo's  arrival  at  Erba  nothing  apparently 
had  been  further  from  his  thoughts  than  the  idea  of 
shortening  his  visit  and  leaving  Agatha  behind  him. 
As  the  time  drew  near  for  the  departure  of  her 
cousins,  Mercede  grew  more  reconciled  to  the  idea  of 
going  to  Varese.  To  be  a  mere  guest  in  Filippo's 
house,  and  to  see  Agatha  presiding  over  it  as  its  mis- 
tress, would  no  doubt  be  hard  to  bear ;  but  Filippo  at 
any  price  was  better  than  no  Filippo.  Besides,  what 
excuse  could  she  give  for  absenting  herself  from 
Agatha's  fete  ? 

"  I  hear  that  Varese  is  greatly  excited  about  the 
fete,"  said  Filippo  to  his  wife  one  evening  when  they 
were  alone. 

"  I  suppose  so  ;  it  is  so  quiet  there." 

"  We  shall  have  our  hands  full,  shall  we  not,  — you 
with  the  decorations  and  the  rest,  and  I  with  the 
open-air  theatre  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed  ;  but  Signor  Veltri  wrote  from  Milan, 
you  know,  that  the  orchestra  is  engaged,  and  he  will 


THE    VILLA    LORE  NO.  339 

bring  it  with  him  next  Monday,  and  my  part  of  the 
preparations  is  already  well  in  hand.  You  are  not 
anxious  about  the  stage,  are  you  ?  " 

"  No  —  not  about  the  stage  itself,"  he  said  dubiously  ; 
"  that  can  be  arranged." 

"  About  anything  else  ?  " 

"  I  must  confess  I  wish  the  tableaux  could  be  taken 
off  my  hands." 

Her  heart  sank,  for  she  saw  what  was  in  his  mind. 

"Don't  you  think,"  he  added,  "  that  Mercede 
might  be  willing  to  go  over  and  help  us  ?  " 

She  had  been  dreading  this.  She  felt  quite  equal  to 
the  task  before  her,  provided  her  mind  was  relieved 
from  the  strain  of  Mercede 's  presence  ;  but  simply  to 
transfer  to  Varese  the  galling  trials  of  the  past  few 
weeks  would,  she  felt,  blight  her  spirit  and  paralyze 
her  energy. 

She  felt  that  the  wear  and  tear  of  this  constant 
self-repression  was  undermining  her  strength  ;  that 
she  should  break  down  unless  she  had  relief,  if  only 
temporary,  from  the  anguish  of  seeing  Mercede's 
complacency  at  her  influence  over  Filippo.  Yet  she 
did  not  lose  sight  of  her  general  purpose,  and  believed 
that  to  oppose  her  husband's  wish  would  be  most 
unwise.  If  he  were  conscious  that  she  had  reason 
for  pain,  he  would  be  doubly  sensitive  to  anything 
that  might  seem  a  protest  from  her ;  and  his  appar- 
ent indifference,  or,  to  say  the  least,  his  blindness  to 
her  humiliating  position,  was  a  sufficient  indication 
that  any  protest  —  even  though  indirect  —  would 
be  most  ill-timed  and  reactionary.  Nevertheless, 
she  could  not  reconcile  herself  to  the  thought  of 


340  AGATHA    PAGE. 

losing  her  anticipated  respite,  and  could  have  cried 
with  disappointment.  The  first  temptation  to  op- 
pose Filippo's  wish  was  conquered,  yet  not  com- 
pletely :  she  did  not  lose  sight  of  her  purpose,  but 
risked  a  compromise. 

"  I  think  Mercede's  aid  would  be  invaluable  in  the 
tableaux,"  she  said,  breaking  the  long  pause,  u  but  I  'd 
rather  not  have  her  come  until  two  or  three  days 
after  I  get  home.  You  see,  she  has  never  been  to 
the  villa,  and  I  should  like  to  look  it  over." 

"  Still,  Mercede  is  n't  like  company.  You  need  n't 
feel  sensitive  about  her." 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  any  woman  will  tell  you  that 
after  an  absence  of  many  months  she  would  wish 
time  to  glance  over  her  house  before  receiving  even 
a  near  relative  as  a  guest." 

"  I  really  don't  see  good  reason  for  such  formality. 
If  you  have  n't  confidence  in  your  housekeeper,  get 
another." 

"  Don't  be  impatient  with  me,  dear  boy  !  "  she  said 
pleadingly.  "  I  only  suggest  that  we  go,  say  on 
Friday,  and  ask  Mercede  and  my  uncle  to  follow  on 
Monday,  the  day  Veltri  arrives." 

"  How  about  Mr.  Dow  and  Gaeta  ?  " 

It  had  been  her  intention  to  take  them  with  Filippo 
and  herself,  but  she  changed  her  plan  on  the  instant. 

"  They  won't  be  needed  before  Monday,  either." 

He  was  somewhat  surprised  at  her  answer,  but  he 
made  no  further  opposition  to  her  wish. 

The  Villa  Loreno,  overhanging  the  hamlet  of  Gaz- 
zada,  and  four  miles  distant  from  Varese,  was  the 


THE    VILLA   LOEENO.  341 

pride  of  its  district,  and  when  the  family  was  absent, 
visitors  to  the  neighborhood  were  brought  to  see  it. 
The  grounds  were  beautiful,  and  thirty  gardeners 
were  always  employed  in  keeping  the  place  in  per- 
fect condition.  This  number  was  not  indeed  needed, 
but  the  Marquis  made  it  a  training-school  for  young 
men  around  Varese,  who  being  trained  at  the  Villa 
Loreno,  were  in  great  demand,  even  as  far  as  Como 
and  Lugano.  He  was  opposed  to  the  giving  of 
money  without  some  return,  believing  it  to  be  harm- 
ful rather  than  beneficial  to  the  recipient,  and  in. 
obedience  to  this  theory  gave  employment  to  as 
many  of  the  poor  as  he  could.  No  young  man  felt 
that  he  need  be  idle,  with  the  chances  opened  up  to 
him  by  the  Marquis ;  and  Filippo's  efforts  compared 
very  favorably  with  Agatha's  work  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Varese  damsels,  the  aggregate  of  their  efforts 
really  adding  much  to  the  welfare  of  the  surrounding 
district. 

Filippo  had  driven  to  the  station  to  meet  the 
General,  Mercede,  Mr.  Dow  and  Gaeta, —  the  first 
arrivals  for  the  festa.  Mercede  seemed  unusually 
grave,  and  this  fact  was  made  conspicuous  by  the 
high  spirits  of  the  others.  When  the  carry-all  swung 
past  the  lodge  and  entered  the  grounds,  an  involun- 
tary exclamation  of  delight  sprang  to  Mercede's  lips. 
A  vast  English  lawn,  bordered  by  a  dense  grove, 
swept  up  to  the  distant  villa,  beyond  which  the 
swelling  outline  of  the  lower  Alps  climbed  higher 
and  higher  until  its  soft  purple  green  merged  into 
dazzling  white  a3  it  mounted  to  the  tip  of  the 
Fleischhorn,  on  to  the  peaks  of  the  great  Mis- 


342  AGATHA    PAGE. 

chabel,  and  then  shot  upwards,  verily  to  the  clouds, 
as  it  skirted  the  stupendous  precipices  of  Monte 
Rosa  the  Majestic. 

"  There  it  is  !  Is  n't  it  a  magnificent  view  ?  "  ex- 
claimed the  General,  who  had  been  discoursing  upon 
it  since  leaving  Erba. 

*'  It  seems  much  the  same  that  we  have,  ex- 
cept that  the  mountains  are  nearer,"  Mercede  re- 
plied. 

"Perhaps,  —  just  in  front.  But  look,  Mercede! 
see  how  the  range  comes  up  as  we  move.  See ! " 
and  the  old  man  rose  to  his  feet,  carried  away  by 
enthusiasm. 

"  Where  does  it  end,  Marquis  ?  "  Mr.  Dow  asked 
impressively,  as  mountain  after  mountain  was  re- 
vealed, until  the  whole  Pennine  range  was  in  sight, 
while  yet  other  ranges  appeared  beyond. 

"  Do  you  see  that  needle-point  rising  high  beyond 
the  others?"  Filippo  said,  pointing  behind  them  ;  "it 
looks  like  vapor,  but  I  can  see  it  distinctly." 

"  Yes.     Well,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Monte  Viso." 

"  Nearly  two  hundred  kilometres  from  here !  " 
exclaimed  the  General. 

"  How  many  miles  is  that?"  asked  the  American. 

"  About  one  hundred  and  ten,"  said  Filippo. 

"  And  I  see  mountains  even  farther." 

"Yes;  from  the  tower  yonder,"  —  and  he  indicated 
a  granite  tower  upon  a  knoll,  —  "  on  a  clear  day,  one 
gets  a  fair  view  of  the  Maritime  range." 

"  Yet  one  tires  of  such  a  long  view,"  Mercede  said 
listlessly,  —  "  at  least  I  do  ; "  and  she  turned  her  eyes 


THE    VILLA   LORENO.  343 

away  from  the  mountains  and  glanced  critically  at 
the  house  which  they  were  approaching.  "  There  's 
Agatha!"  and  she  waved  her  hand. 

As  Mercede  entered  the  house  she  could  not  but 
•be  struck  with  the  splendor  of  its  proportions  and 
effect. 

Filippo  joined  her,  and  ushered  the  way  into  a  large 
ante-sala  like  that  of  some  old  feudal  castle.  The 
ceiling  was  panelled,  and  from  the  centre  hung  a 
chandelier  of  beaten  iron.  The  walls  were  covered 
with  tapestries  of  rich  design,  and  lined  on  two 
sides  by  a  carved  wainscoting,  against  which  stood 
long  and  highly-carved  benches,  upon  which  a  dozen 
or  more  cushions  were  thrown.  The  floor  was  of 
marble ;  the  doors  were  broad  and  built  into  the 
room  like  storm-doors,  the  sides  of  the  frames  and 
the  doors  themselves  being  triumphs  of  the  carver's 
skill.  A  long  hinge  of  brass  ran  the  entire  width  of 
each  door,  both  at  the  top  and  bottom,  while  a  flat 
handle  of  the  same  metal  hung  upon  a  hinge  and 
required  to  be  lifted  when  used.  Above  each  door 
was  an  elaborate  over-door  rising,  not  unlike  a  cathe- 
dral window,  to  the  ceiling.  Great  brass  fire-dogs 
stood  under  a  massive  chimney  built  out  into  the 
room  and  decorated  with  the  Marquis's  coat  of  arms. 
In  front  of  this  fireplace  stood  another  bench  with 
cushioned  seat.  The  window-hangings  were  of  an 
antique  fabric  of  dull  colors  that  blended  with  the 
general  tone  of  the  room,  and  at  this  moment  the 
casements  of  colored  glass  were  thrown  open  to 
admit  the  summer  air. 

Agatha,  who  had  entered  behind  Mercede,  glanced 


344  AGATHA   PAGE. 

at  her  face  with  interest  as  she  looked  about  her 
critically. 

"  It 's  charming,"  she  said  coldly. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  tired  and  would  like  to  go  to 
your  own  room,"  said  her  hostess. 

When  Mercede  was  alone  she  sank  into  a  deep  arm- 
chair and  looked  about  her.  The  room  was  large, 
the  ceiling  wainscoted,  —  as  were  most  of  the  rooms 
through  which  she  had  passed,  —  the  fireplace  was 
open  and  large,  with  a  cushioned  bench  before  it,  as 
in  the  ante-sala.  The  walls  were  hung  with  fine  old 
silks  from  the  looms  of  Varese,  the  floors  were  of  pol- 
ished wood,  and  the  furniture  of  quaint  design.  The 
bed  was  covered  by  a  rich  canopy,  and  protected  on  all 
sides  by  damask  curtains.  Rising,  she  went  through 
a  door  leading  to  a  luxurious  dressing-room,  beyond 
which  was  a  diminutive  private  chapel.  She  glanced 
carelessly  around  it,  pausing  only  to  examine  a  carved 
crucifix  above  the  prie-Dieu,  and  then  closing  the 
door  she  turned  the  key  and  went  back  to  her  bed- 
room. 

"  It 's  undeniably  splendid,"  she  thought,  "  but  I 
should  think  she  would  feel  lost  in  it.  A  cottage, 
with  roses  and  a  cat  and  some  bird-cages,  is  more 
in  her  style.  This  dwarfs  a  woman  like  Agatha,  — 
*  Agatha  Page,'  as  he  used  to  say  in  Paris."  She  lay 
back  in  her  chair,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  wall. 
"Ah!  what  a  fool  I  was!"  she  exclaimed,  suddenly 
clenching  her  fingers.  "  Yet  how  could  I  know  ?  I 
played  into  her  hands  ;  I  praised  her ;  I  excited  his 
fear  of  losing  her.  I  must  needs  meddle,  and  now 
I  have  my  reward.  He  loves  me,  I  love  him ;  and 


THE    VILLA    LORE  NO.  345 

she  stands  between  us, —  she  and  Ernesto.  But 
what  of  it  ?  Which  is  better  worth  having,  —  the 
shadow,  or  the  substance?  What,  I  wonder,  will  be 
the  outcome  of  it  all?  On  one  thing,  however,  I  'm 
determined,"  —  and  her  eye  shone  coldly,  —  "neither 
Agatha  nor  Ernesto  nor  any  one  nor  every  one  shall 
come  between  Filippo  and  me !  Let  Agatha  keep 
his  name  and  his  keys ;  his  heart  is  mine." 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  Mr.  Dow  did  his  duty  con- 
scientiously during  the  next  few  days,  for  neither 
Agatha  nor  Filippo  had  much  time  for  anything  ex- 
cept the  arrangements  for  the  coming  festival.  The 
music  was  entirely  in  the  hands  of  Signor  Veltri, 
while  Filippo  devoted  himself  to  the  arranging  of  the 
stage  upon  the  lawn  in  front  of  the  house.  Yet  an 
orchestra,  cannot  rehearse  without  intermission,  nor 
can  the  most  willing  of  subjects  pose  without  rest. 
Both  Veltri  and  Gaeta,  therefore,  had  many  a  tempt- 
ing opportunity  for  pleasant  chats  and  walks  in  which 
Mr.  Dow  was  supposed  to  participate,  but  as  Gaeta 
had  unearthed  from  her  uncle's  library  a  famous 
novel  by  Manzoni,  which  she  advised  him  to  read, 
while  the  "  youngsters,"  as  he  called  them,  talked 
together,  he  became  so  absorbed  in  his  book  that  he 
failed  to  interrupt  them.  Then  too  he  developed 
a  sudden  lameness  of  the  right  leg,  —  an  incon- 
venience too  trifling  to  mention  to  his  hostess,  but 
which  soon  after  starting  for  a  walk  with  his  young 
companions  necessitated  his  resting  upon  some 
shady  bank  which- they  should  repass  on  their  home- 
ward way. 


346  AGATHA  PAGE. 

Gaeta  as  the  Rose  was  sure  to  be  charming,  while 
the  other  characters  of  the  tableaux  were  gladly 
undertaken  by  young  neighbors  of  the  Marquis, 
whose  ardor  and  assiduous  rehearsing  under  Mer- 
cede's  direction  made  amends  for  the  shortness  of 
the  time  granted  them  for  preparation,  Mercede 
certainly  worked  with  enthusiasm,  while  Filippo  was 
here,  there,  and  everywhere  ;  but  both  found  fre- 
quent need  of  consulting  together,  while  Agatha 
worked  alone,  with  pain  in  her  heart  and  a  song 
upon  her  lips. 


CHAPTER 

OLD   ASSOCIATIONS. 

AT  last  the  morning  of  the  festa  broke,  bright  and 
clear ;  and  as  Veltri  left  his  room  for  an  early  stroll, 
he  found  the  servants  moving  about  noiselessly,  strew- 
ing freshly-cut  flowers  over  the  mosaic  floors,  and 
twining  garlands  about  the  balusters  of  the  stairs, 
while  growing  plants  and  spreading  palms  almost 
hid  the  walls,  and  outside  upon  the  veranda  thick 
festoons  hung  between  the  pillars. 

"It  must  delight  her  eye,"  thought  the  youth; 
"but  will  anything  gladden  her  heart,  even  on  this 
day?"  Then  he  walked  on  slowly,  thinking  as  he 
went.  "  They  are  inseparable,"  he  muttered  ;  "  they 
stroll  together  before  breakfast;  at  the  meal  they 
talk  together;  then  she  hovers  about  him  while  he 
smokes ;  when  at  work  they  are  constantly  consult- 
ing together ;  dinner  finds  them  'absorbed  in  each 
other ;  the  evening  emphasizes  the  devotion  of  the 
day  ;  while  the  brave  wife  smiles  into  the  faces  of 
her  guests,  and  all  try  to  ignore  that  which  cannot 
be  hidden.  What  a  painful  time  it  has  been !  I 
fear  there  is  trouble  near  for  these  dearest  of  my 
friends." 


348  AGATHA   PAGE. 

He  heard  a  footstep  approaching,  and  looked  up. 
It  was  the  Marquis,  who  held  in  his  hand  a  large 
bunch  of  forget-me-nots. 

"  Good-morning !  "  Loreno  exclaimed  cheerily  ; 
"  are  they  not  making  the  house  beautiful  ? " 

"  Beautiful  indeed  ! " 

He  held  up  the  flowers.  "  And  see  these,"  he 
said.  "  On  the  Marchesa's  birthday  I  always  gather 
flowers  for  her  with  the  dew  upon  them.  It  baptizes 
the  new  year! " 

"  Then  God's  peace  go  with  it ! "  exclaimed  the 
youth,  fervently. 

Loreno  raised  the  flowers  admiringly,  and  as  Veltri 
looked  at  them  his  face  became  sad,  —  a  fact  which 
aroused  his  companion's  interest. 

"  Don't  they  please  you?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  recalled  the  old  legend  which  gave  the  flower 
its  name,  —  at  least  in  poetry." 

"  I  don't  remember  it." 

"  A  knight  in  reaching  for  a  bunch  upon  the 
bank  of  the  Danube  fell  into  deep  water,  and  as  he 
was  swept  away  by  a  heartless  current  he  flung  the 
flowers  at  the  feet  of  his  lady,  crying,  '  Vergiss  mich 
nicht ! '  Yes,  they  are  very  pretty,  but  it  was  a  poor 
exchange." 

"You  are  more* poetical  than  I  am." 

"  I  confess  flowers  seem  symbolical." 

"  And  diabolical,  I  should  think,  from  your  point 
of  view." 

"In  some  cases  even  that." 

Their  eyes  met  for  an  instant,  and  then  Loreno,  col- 
oring slightly,  moved  away,  but  immediately  turned 


OLD  ASSOCIATIONS.  349 

back,  and  said  quietly,  "  I  don't  believe,  Veltri,  that 
I  interpret  your  meaning  rightly.  But  I  won't  stop 
longer,  for  I  don't  like  your  mood."  And  turning 
on  his  heel  he  strode  toward  the  house. 

As  he  ascended  the  steps  of  the  veranda  Madame 
Andre"  came  out  of  the  door. 

"  Are  these  not  lovely  ?  "  he  asked,  holding  up  the 
flowers. 

She  glanced  at  them  and  her  manner  changed. 

"Yes,  very  pretty  indeed,"  she  answered  coldly. 

"I  hope,"  he  exclaimed,  "that  Agatha  will  appre- 
ciate them  more  than  the  rest  of  you  seem  to." 

She  raised  her  eyebrows  slightly.  "  Who  else  has 
seen  them?" 

"  Veltri ;  they  made  him  very  mournful." 

She  evidently  did  not  care  to  dwell  upon  the 
flowers,  and  asked  where  he  had  met  Signor  Veltri. 

"  He  was  going  toward  the  garden." 

u  I  '11  go  look  for  him,"  she  said,  walking  down 
the  steps. 

"  Very  well ;  I  '11  take  these  upstairs  and  then  join 

you." 

"  You  've  evidently  had  your  walk,"  she  said, 
without  looking  back ;  "  I  '11  go  alone  this  morn- 
ing." 

He  stood  looking  after  her  with  a  puzzled  expres- 
sion upon  his  face.  "  Early  rising  does  n't  seem  to 
agree  with  this  household,"  he  muttered  dryly,  as  he 
went  into  the  ^ouse. 

When  Agatha  opened  her  eyes,  her  first  glance  was 
toward  her  dressing-table,  and  as  she  saw  the  flowers 
her  heart  gave  a  quick  bound.  Hastily  going  to  the 


350  AGATHA   PAGE. 

emblems  of  her  husband's  thoughtful  ness,  she  bent 
down  and  kissed  them  with  a  sense  of  joy  she  had 
not  known  for  many  a  long  day.  She  told  her  maid 
to  lay  out  a  white  muslin  dress ;  and  as  she  stepped 
from  her  room  with  a  bunch  of  the  forget-me-nots 
on  her  breast  and  the  old  bright  expression  light- 
ing up  her  face,  she  seemed  to  have  caught  the 
freshness  of  the  morning. 

Her  heart  beat  rapidly  as  she  saw  her  husband  in 
the  corridor  below  awaiting  her  coming.  He  came 
forward  to  meet  her,  and  kissing  her  whispered, 
44  Many  happy  returns  —  Agatha  Page."  Then 
tucking  her  arm  within  his  own  he  led  her  forward 
to  receive  the  congratulations  and  compliments  of 
the  others. 

In  the  centre  of  the  table  was  a  huge  basket  of 
flowers  sent  by  the  peasants  of  the  neighborhood, 
and  around  her  plate  were  ranged  various  gifts. 

She  thanked  each  giver  in  turn,  and  at  last  gave 
her  attention  to  a  lovely  copy  upon  porcelain  of  the 
Sistine  Madonna,  which  did  not  bear  any  name. 

*4  Oh,  how  beautiful!"  she  exclaimed,  "and  my 
favorite  painting.  Whom  have  I  to  thank  for 
this?" 

No  one  spoke. 

44  There  seems  to  be  something  written  on  the 
back,"  suggested  Mr.  Dow. 

She  turned  the  picture  and  read  silently  some 
birthday  verses  written  by  her  husband. 

They  were  dated  at  Erba.  This,  then,  was  the 
mj'sterious  '4  writing  "  that  one  morning  while  there 
he  had  remained  at  home  to  finish. 


OLD  ASSOCIATIONS.  351 

Agatha  was  humbled,  and  without  comment  turned 
and  kissed  him  fervently.  It  seemed  as  though  a 
new  era  of  happiness  had  opened  with  the  new  year. 

"  Read  the  verses  to  us,"  suggested  the  General. 

"  I  protest !  "  exclaimed  Filippo. 

A  chorus  of  entreaty,  however,  overruled  his  mod- 
esty, and  Agatha  read  the  verses  aloud. 

"What  sort  of  metre  do  you  call  that?"  inquired 
Mr.  Dow,  critically. 

"  Ante  -  Chinese  Imperial,"  responded  Loreno, 
gravely. 

Mr.  Dow  smiled,  although  doubtfully,  for  he  rather 
dreaded  tilting  with  this  scornful  young  Marquis. 

"  What  do  you  mean? "  the  Count  asked. 

"  Upon  the  Chinese  stage,"  explained  Filippo, 
"  royalty  is  expressed  by  the  walk  of  the  actor  per- 
sonifying it.  He  moves  in  a  set  fashion,  lifting  each 
foot  high  and  throwing  it  forward  with  a  motion  not 
unlike  that  of  a  pawing  horse.  His  movement,  there- 
fore, is  embarrassed  by  the  need  of  keeping  to  his 
Imperial  step.  In  the  same  way  real  poetry  is  recog- 
nized by  its  metre.  But  mere  poetical  expression  is 
but  a  peasant,  and  may  walk  as  naturally  as  it 
pleases ;  while  my  homely  thought  shuffles  humbly 
on  in  the  way  most  easy  to  it,  without  for  an  instant 
presuming  to  appropriate  the  recognized  step  of 
royalty." 

This  explanation  seemed  to  amuse  every  one  ex- 
cept Agatha  and  Mercede,  —  the  wife,  because  she 
thought  the  lines  were  charming  ;  the  artist,  because 
even  this  slight  defiance  of  conventionality  gratified 
her. 


352  AGATHA    PAGE. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  the  morning  should  be 
passed  quietly,  as  the  afternoon  and  evening  would 
be  fatiguing.  At  three  o'clock  the  peasantry  were  to 
offer  their  congratulations,  and  Loreno  had  arranged 
to  give  them  a  luncheon  in  the  grove,  followed  by 
games  for  prizes  until  sunset.  At  dark  there  were 
to  be  fireworks  such  as  the  simple  peasants  had 
never  dreamed  of,  and  at  nine  o'clock  a  hundred  or 
more  of  the  gentry  of  the  surrounding  country  had 
been  invited  to  attend  the  performance  of  "  The 
Pilgrimage  of  the  Rose,"  to  be  followed  by  a  ball, 
for  which  preparations  had  been  making  for  several 
days. 

"  Well,  Agatha  Page,"  said  Filippo,  taking  both 
her  hands  in  his,  "  where  shall  we  go,  and  what 
shall  we  do  this  morning  ?  This  afternoon,  I  fear  I 
shall  be  very  busy." 

"  Let  us  go  for  a  stroll,"  she  said,  "  and  then  to 
the  boat-house,  where  you  shall  read  to  me." 

So  while  Mercede  was  sitting  on  the  piazza  talk- 
ing with  Mr.  Dow  and  Veltri,  and  wondering  where 
Filippo  could  be,  she  caught  sight  of  him  and  Agatha 
going  across  the  edge  of  the  lawn. 

Suddenly  her  face  lighted  with  pleasure.  "  He  's 
coming  for  me,"  she  thought,  as  she  saw  Filippo  turn 
and  come  back.  "  Shall  I  go,  or  shall  I  give  him  to 
her  for  this  whole  long  morning?" 

He  came  straight  toward  her  and  ascended  the 
steps.  She  followed  him  with  her  eyes  expectantly. 
He  smiled  pleasantly  and  nodded. 

"  I  forgot  something,"  he  said,  and  passed  into 
the  house- 


OLD  ASSOCIATIONS.  353 

Mercede  scarcely  concealed  her  chagrin.  Then  it 
flashed  across  her  mind  that  his  words  were  only  a 
cloak  to  his  real  purpose  in  returning,  and  that  he 
was  waiting  for  her.  Making  an  excuse  she  left  her 
friends,  but  Filippo  was  not  in  the  corridor.  She 
smiled  as  she  heard  some  one  whistling  in  the  library, 
and  glancing  through  the  partly-opened  door  saw 
him  looking  along  a  row  of  books. 

She  pushed  the  door  open  and  entered. 

"  Can  I  help  you  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  Come  in,"  he  responded  cordially.  "  You  are 
just  the  one  I  was  wishing  for." 

"  Yes?  "  and  Mercede  thought  to  tease  him  a  bit. 
"  Do  you  wish  me  to  help  you  to  find  some  book  ?  " 

"  If  you  would  be  so  kind." 

She  admired  his  sang  froid,  but  appeared  to  take 
him  at  his  word.  "What  book  is  it  ?  " 

"The  one  you  asked  me  to  read  to  you  yesterday." 

The  hint  seemed  broad,  but  she  kept  her  coun- 
tenance. 

"  It 's  in  my  room,"  she  replied  ;  "I'll  get  it." 

"  Thank  you." 

As  she  brought  it  down  and  placed  it  in  his  hands 
she  waited  curiously  to  see  what  he  would  do  next. 

"  Au  revoir,"  he  said,  moving  toward  the  door. 

"  Good-by,"  she  responded,  with  inward  amuse- 
ment. Then  as  he  stepped  into  the  hall  she  called 
his  name,  and  he  stopped  and  looked  back. 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  read,  —  in  the  grove  ?  " 

"  No  ;  Agatha  suggested  the  boat-house." 

Her  eyebrows  knit  with  genuine  surprise.  "  Aga- 
tha !  Are  you  going  to  read  our  book  to  her?  " 

23 


354  AGATHA    PAGE. 

"  I  thought  she  would  enjoy  it ;  don't  you  think 
so  ?  " 

She  did  not  reply,  but  stood  looking  at  him. 

"  I  did  n't  suppose  you  wanted  it  for  her,"  she  said, 
breaking  the  silence. 

He  came  forward.  "  Perhaps  you  were  going  to 
read  it  yourself." 

"  Never  mind  ;  I  can  find  something  else." 

"  No,  indeed ;  I  won't  consent  to  take  it.  I  did  n't 
think  of  your  wanting  it,  for  you  said  you  wished  to 
read  it  with  me." 

She  looked  at  him  searchingly  yet  half  smilingly. 

"Are  you  serious?"  she  asked. 

"  Certainly  ;  did  n't  you  ?  " 

"  I  mean  about  reading  that  book  to  Agatha." 

"  I  confess  I  was  looking  for  it,  but  something  else 
will  do  just  as  well."  His  eye  fell  upon  a  small  vol- 
ume on  the  shelf  behind  her.  "  There  is  De  Musset, 
I  '11  take  that ; "  and  he  went  and  took  down  the 
book. 

Without  another  word  or  look  Mercede  arose  and 
left  the  room.  He  stood  staring  after  her  for  a  mo- 
ment. "  I  suppose  every  genius  is  eccentric,"  he 
said  ;  "  but  she  seems  particularly  nervous  this  morn- 
ing." Then  he  started  to  rejoin  his  wife. 

As  he  rounded  a  bend  of  a  shaded  path  he  discov- 
ered Agatha  talking  with  what  at  first  sight  appeared 
to  be  an  animated  cornucopia,  for  a  huge  basket  of  this 
shape  was  strapped  upon  the  back  of  a  young  girl, 
its  capacious  mouth  coming  above  her  head,  while  its 
point  reached  nearly  to  her  ankles.  As  she  turned 
a  little  "he  saw  that  her  braided  hair  was  adorned 


OLD  ASSOCIATIONS.  355 

with  gay  ribbons,  while  around  her  neck  a  white 
cloth  was  pinned  which  fell  to  her  waist  and  hung 
loose  about  her  arms  like  a  primitive  dolman.  A 
checked  apron  of  coarse  stuff  nearly  covered  her 
dress,  which  reached  to  the  neatly-turned  ankles,  and 
attracted  his  attention  to  the  dainty  feet  clad  in 
striped  stockings  and  shod  with  shoes  of  wood,  the 
soles  of  which  were  raised  several  inches  from  the 
ground  by  what  may  be  described  as  double  French 
heels,  —  one  at  the  curve  of  the  foot  and  the  other 
at  the  toe.  Above  the  latter  a  leather  band  nailed 
on  both  sides  of  the  shoe  ran  over  the  wearer's  foot, 
which  enabled  her  by  the  aid  of  a  gliding  motion  to 
keep  from  casting  the  picturesque  things.  She  held 
a  small  wicker  basket  containing  wild  lilies-of-the- 
valley,  which  she  was  offering  to  Agatha.  As  Filippo 
drew  nearer,  he  saw  his  wife  accept  the  flowers, 
whereupon  the  delighted  girl  kissed  both  the  Mar- 
chesa's  hands,  and  with  blushing  cheeks  and  gleam- 
ing teeth  dropped  a  little  courtesy  and  turned  to  go 
away. 

"  Wait,  little  one  !  "  he  called. 

The  girl  turned  in  surprise. 

"  And  who  are  you  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Bettina,  the  baker's  daughter,  Eccellenza."  And 
she  dropped  another  courtesy. 

"  And  why  did  you  give  the  Marchesa  these 
flowers  ?  " 

"  I  picked  them  for  her  festa,  and  brought  them 
now,  as  I  cannot  come  this  afternoon." 

"  You  are  very  thoughtful,  but  the  basket  is 
empty." 


356  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  Yes,  Signore ;  the  Marchesa  insisted  upon  my 
keeping  it." 

"  Well,  I  will  ask  the  Marchesa  to  accept  it  ;  arid 
in  its  place  perhaps  you  will  do  me  the  favor  of  going 
to  Varese  and  buying  a  work-basket  I  saw  yesterday 
in  a  window  near  the  post-office."  He  wrote  a  line 
upon  a  card.  "  Give  the  shopkeeper  this  card,  and 
he  will  give  you  your  basket." 

"  Oh,  Signore,  this  is  too  much  ! " 

"  I  wish  you  to  be  reminded  of  us,  since  you  must 
stay  away  this  afternoon." 

She  accepted  the  card  with  dancing  eyes  and 
proper  thanks,  and  glided  down  the  path,  turning 
now  and  again  to  kiss  her  hand. 

"  What  a  sweet  little  thing  she  is !  "  he  said. 

"  And  what  a  dear  fellow  you  are ! "  was  the 
proud  answer.  "  I  saw  that  work-basket  and  quite 
coveted  it." 

They  strolled  on  together  and  presently  turned  into 
a  small  open  space  bordered  by  the  thick  grove.  From 
tree  to  tree  ivy  grew  in  low  festoons,  hiding  each  trunk 
from  the  ground  to  its  lowest  branches.  At  one  end 
of  the  opening  rose  a  low  green  bank  upon  which  was 
an  aviary  of  rare  birds,  while  the  opposite  bank  con- 
tained an  open  pagoda  rilled  with  flowers  and  plants ; 
birilli  or  tennis  would  find  here  an  ideal  home.  At 
the  moment  several  brilliant  peacocks  lay  in  a  slant 
of  sunshine  which  fell  upon  the  turf,  while  others 
with  spread  tails  stalked  slowly  about ;  doves  circled 
overhead,  and  the  songs  of  birds  filled  the  air. 

"  This  is  the  historical  spot,"  said  Filippo,  "  to 
which  I  brought  Miss  Agatha  Page  the  night  she 


OLD  ASSOCIATIONS.  357 

promised  to  be  my  wife.  Do  you  remember  the 
walk  down  the  mountain  that  night,  and  then  the 
ride  home,  and  after  dinner  the  stroll  we  took,  and 
our  wonderful  talk  here  ?  " 

Her  eyes  grew  moist  at  the  vivid  recollection. 

"  I  remember  every  happy  moment,"  she  said,  press- 
ing his  arm  tightly  and  laying  her  cheek  caressingly 
against  it. 

"  Even  the  nightingale  that  sang  to  us  from  that 
ilex-tree  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

"  And  how  I  went  for  your  violin,  that  you  might 
play  « Du  bist  die  Ruh' '  to  me  ?  " 

"  Everything  —  Luitello." 

He  raised  the  happy  face  to  his  and  kissed  it 
tenderly. 

"  Come,"  she  exclaimed  presently.  "  Let  us  go 
down  to  the  boat-house." 

They  followed  a  broad  path  to  the  edge  of  the 
wood,  where  an  undulating  lawn  led  down  to  a  lit- 
tle lake  that  seemed  like  a  sapphire  dropped  from 
heaven.  Skirting  its  shore  for  a  short  distance,  they 
rounded  a  curve  outlined  by  trees,  and  came  sud- 
denly upon  a  low  rambling  building  half  buried  in 
wisteria  which  clung  to  its  sides  and  covered  its 
porch,  while  the  branches  of  great  oaks  bent  ten- 
derly over  its  gable  roof. 

Running  up  the  half-dozen  stone  steps,  Agatha 
disappeared  within  the  boat-house,  but  in  a  moment 
threw  open  a  lattice  window,  and  leaning  her  arms 
upon  the  sill,  smiled  happily  upon  her  husband,  who 
stood  just  below  rolling  a  cigarette. 


358  AGATHA    PAGE. 

"  Here  is  where  I  used  to  come  and  dream  dur- 
ing that  first  visit,"  she  said  ;  and  as  his  eyes  smiled 
back  into  hers  she  added,  "  The  maidens  of  the 
Brianza  *say  that  when  the  wisteria  rustles  it  is 
Cupid  dancing  with  delight.  Do  you  wonder  that 
I  came  here  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  only  wonder  that  such  a  lake  had  no 
Luitello." 

"Who  knows?  But  my  eyes  could  see  only  the 
one  seeking  me,"  and  as  he  looked  up  at  her  she 
daintily  threw  him  a  kiss. 

"Where  shall  we  read,"  he  asked,  —  "iuthe  old 
place  ? " 

«  Yes." 

So,  going  up  the  steps  of  the  porch,  he  seated 
himself  upon  a  rustic  bench,  where  Agatha  joined 
him.  They  sat  and  chatted  as  they  looked  through 
the  vines  upon  the  rippling  water  and  its  wooded 
banks,  until  an  hour  slipped  by ;  the  charm  of  the 
sweet  poet  failing  to  allure  them  from  the  spell  of 
their  happy  communion. 

Their  tete-a-tete  was  disturbed  by  the  sound  of 
oars,  and  Filippo,  going  to  the  corner  of  the  boat- 
house,  saw  Gaeta  calmly  rowing  a  boat,  in  the  stern 
of  which  sat  Veltri. 

"Where  have  you  two  truants  been?"  he  in- 
quired, as  the  boat  glided  under  the  house  and  came 
to  rest. 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  "  and  Gaeta  nodded.  "  What 
have  you  done  with  Mr.  Dow  ?  " 

"  Have  you  been  rowing  around  the  lake  looking 
for  him?" 


OLD  ASSOCIATIONS.  359 

"  No  ;  we  were  misdirected  by  him.  I  wanted  to 
speak  to  Aunt  Agatha,  and  Mr.  Dow  said  she  had 
gone  with  you  for  a  walk,  and  he  and  Signer  Veltri 
came  with  me  to  look  for  you.  We  came  down  here, 
and  Mr.  Dow  said  he  thought  you  were  across  the 
lake,  and  that  if  we  would  kindly  go  and  see,  he 
would  wait  for  us.  It 's  been  a  terribly  hot  row." 
And  she  made  a  great  show  of  fanning  herself. 

Filippo  was  amused.  "  Perhaps  he  grew  a  little 
alarmed  at  your  protracted  absence,"  he  said  cruelly, 
"  and  has  gone  to  the  other  side  in  search  of  you. 
Had  n't  you  better  row  over  again  and  see  ?  " 

"I  came  to  find  Aunt  Agatha,"  was  the  dignified 
response.  "  Is  she  here  ?  " 

"  Are  you  looking  for  me,  dear  ?  "  called  a  voice 
from  above. 

Gaeta  hastened  up  the  steps,  leaving  Veltri  to  meet 
the  adversary  single-handed. 

"  It 's  very  kind  of  you  to  take  such  trouble  to  look 
for  us,"  said  Loreno,  blandly. 

"  Oh,  not  at  all;  I  was  glad  to  be  of  assistance  to 
the  Signorina." 

"  And  on  such  a  warm  morning,  too." 

"  Yet  no  warmer  for  me  than  for  Donna  Gaeta." 

"  True  enough  ;  but  why  did  n't  Mr.  Dow  accom- 
pany you  ?" 

"  He  said  that  he  did  n't  care  to  go  unless  he  rowed, 
and  that  it  makes  him  ill  to  ride  backwards.  —  Ah, 
here  he  comes  !  " 

Mr.  Dow  reported  the  arrival  of  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  Faviola.  .  He  had  onl}'  caught  sight  of  them 
in  the  distance,  as  he  hurried  away  to  inform  Gaeta. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
A  WOMAN'S  PASSION. 

THE  reception  of  the  peasantry,  the  feast,  and 
fireworks  had  passed  off  most  successfully,  and  al- 
though rather  tired,  Agatha  found  herself  borne  up 
by  the  excitement  and  her  happy  heart.  Filippo  had 
devoted  himself  to  her  throughout  the  day ;  for  even 
when  he  was  engaged  in  furthering  the  pleasure  of 
her  humble  visitors  he  managed  to  return  frequently 
to  her  side,  and  she  had  been  much  interested  in  see- 
ing how  well  he  handled  the  large  crowd,  which  he 
directed  firmly  without  emphasizing  the  fact. 

Then,  too,  she  had  been  justly  proud  of  the  reply 
he  made  in  her  behalf  to  the  toast  proposed  in  her 
honor  by  Padre  Sacconi,  who  had  come  from  Elba 
that  morning.  Agatha  had  only  heard  her  husband 
speak  publicly  a  few  times,  and  she  listened  with 
deep  admiration  ;  and  as  he  took  his  seat  amid  a  vol- 
ley of  bravi  and  a  storm  of  hand-clapping,  she  felt 
that  there  was  reason  for  her  pride  in  the  love  of 
such  a  man. 

The  neighbors  and  friends  invited  for  the  evening 
began  to  arrive  soon  after  nine  o'clock.  The  trees 
were  illuminated,  as  far  as  the  eye  coul<\  penetrate,  by 
hundreds  of  colored  lights,  while  the  bright  moonlight 


A    WOMAN'S  PASSION.  361 

upon  the  open  spaces  aided  in  creating  a  ravishing 
effect.  In  front  of  the  stage  upon  the  lawn  a  hun- 
dred or  more  chairs  were  placed  for  the  audience; 
and  as  the  music  rose  gently  in  the  uncertain  light, 
its  effect  was  charming.  The  singers  were  profes- 
sionals from  Milan,  and  they  rendered  their  parts 
well ;  no  hitch  occurred  between  orchestra,  singers, 
and  those  performing  in  the  tableaux,  while  the 
series  of  pictures  which  illustrated  the  words  was 
both  vivid  and  artistic. 

By  eleven  o'clock  the  last  curtain  fell,  amid  enthu- 
siastic plaudits.  Then  some  of  the  guests  strolled 
through  the  grounds,  and  others  went  to  the  ball- 
room, allured  by  the  strains  of  a  waltz. 

Gaeta  was  the  belle  of  the  occasion,  and  before 
she  was  aware  of  what  was  happening,  her  dancing- 
card  was  full.  It  was  in  vain  that  she  mentally 
upbraided  Veltri  for  his  delinquency :  for  some  un- 
known reason  he  did  not  enter  the  room,  but  she 
several  times  saw  his  dark  face  peering  in  at  one 
of  the  open  windows.  At  first  she  thought  he  was 
merely  resting  after  the  fatigue  of  the  cantata ; 
but  as  dance  after  dance  went  by  and  he  remained 
outside,  she  became  preoccupied,  and  it  required  an 
effort  to  keep  her  mind  upon  her  steps.  At  last  she 
caught  sight  of  her  aunt  Agatha,  and  asked  to  be 
taken  to  her. 

"  I  wonder  if  Signer  Veltri  is  n't  going  to  ask  you 
or  me  to  dance,"  she  said  with  a  show  of  gayety.  "  I 
would  n't  care  if  it  were  any  one  else,  but  he  's  such 
a  divine  dancer."  • 

Agatha   took    the    hint.     "  I  '11  see  if  I  can  find 


362  AGATHA   PAGE. 

him,"  she  replied ;  "  I  think  your  uncle  and  he  must 
have  strolled  away  together." 

"  No ;  he  has  been  outside  that  window  nearest  the 
door  for  half  an  hour,"  said  Gaeta,  completely  ignor- 
ing her  uncle. 

"  Then  I  '11  go  presently  and  upbraid  him." 

"  But  don't  let  him  know  that  I  sent  you." 

"  No ;  I  '11  talk  to  him  entirely  on  my  own 
account." 

She  went  outside,  but  Veltri  was  not  to  be  seen. 
She  was  about  to  enter  the  house  again,  when  the 
moonlight  revealed  a  dim  figure  at  the  other  end 
of  the  veranda.  She  went  toward  it,  and  as  she 
approached  saw  that  it  was  Veltri,  sitting  with  his 
elbows  upon  his  knees  and  his  hands  supporting  his 
head,  —  a  picture  of  utter  dejection. 

Hearing  her  footstep,  he  lifted  a  pale  unhappy 
face,  and  seeing  who  it  was  rose  hastily. 

"  Why,  Signer  Veltri,"  she  said,  "  are  you  not 
going  to  dance  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Signora,"  he  responded  wearily,  "  I  'm  not 
well." 

She  was  truly  alarmed,  and  looking  into  his  face 
said,  "  Shall  I  send  the  Marquis  to  you  ?  " 

"No,  Signora,"  he  burst  forth  with  evident  emo- 
tion ;  "  it  is  of  the  heart." 

"  Poor  boy !  "  and  she  took  his  arm  sympatheti- 
cally. "  Tell  me  what  the  trouble  is." 

"  No,  not  here,  Signora ;  some  one  may  overhear. 
Will  you  walk  a  little?" 

"  Yes,  for  a  few  moments." 

44  Let  us  go  and  hear  the  tower  chimes  from  the 


A    WOMAN'S  PASSION.  363 

west  terrace.  The  townspeople  have  brought  the 
great  Sereno  from  Venice  to  ring  them  in  your 
honor." 

"  I  know  it.  Was  n't  it  kind  of  them  !  The  guests 
are  all  enthusiastic  about  his  playing.  Come,  let  us 
go  and  hear  him." 

They  crossed  the  lawn  before  the  house,  and  walk- 
ing its  length  entered  the  belt  of  wood,  through  which 
they  passed  to  the  edge  of  the  hill  overlooking  the 
town  of  Varese,  several  miles  distant ;  and  while  the 
sweet  voices  of  the  bells  floated  up  to  them  upon 
the  still  night  air,  Veltri  opened  his  heart  and  poured 
out  his  hopeless  love  for  his  pupil.  That  his  love 
must  be  sacrificed  to  the  welfare  of  Gaeta  he  de- 
clared that  he  knew.  His  decision  had  been  taken 
that  very  day,  and  he  would  not  again  shrink  from 
its  necessary  woe. 

Agatha  believed  that  her  young  confidant  had  a 
bright  future,  and  that  the  time  was  coming  when  he 
would  be  a  composer  of  acknowledged  merit,  the  ex- 
tent of  which  no  one  could  yet  measure.  But  above 
and  beyond  all  else  her  heart  was  cast  strictly  in  the 
softer  mould,  and  the  proposed  sacrifice  of  Cupid  upon 
the  altar  of  false  pride  moved  her  to  pour  words 
pleasant  to  hear  into  the  ear  of  the  youth,  who  gladly 
modified  his  stern  resolve. 

"  Go  back  to  Gaeta,"  suggested  Agatha  ;  "  I  really 
don't  mind  being  left,  and  I  would  like  to  sit  and 
listen  quietly  to  the  bells  for  a  few  moments.  Don't 
say  anything  about  my  being  here,  and  no  one  will 
miss  me  ;  now,  do  as  I  say,  or  you  will  compel  me  to 
return,  for  I  told  Gaeta  I  should  bring  you." 


364  AGATHA   PAGE. 

So  he  left  her,  although  not  without  protest,  and 
as  his  steps  died  away  she  leaned  her  head  against  a 
tree  and  yielded  to  the  charm  of  the  silvery  serenade. 
It  seemed  the  fitting  close  to  a  happy  day.  As  she 
sat  listening,  the  outline  of  two  promenaders  appeared 
in  the  moonlight  not  many  yards  away.  They  did 
not  approach  nearer,  but  stood  talking  in  low  and 
earnest  tones.  She  watched  them  listlessly,  until 
suddenly  the  woman's  voice  grew  louder  and  Agatha 
recognized  it  to  be  that  of  Mercede.  As  the  moon- 
light fell  full  upon  the  man's  face,  indifference  fled, 
and  her  heart  beat  rapidly. 

The  absorbed  couple  stood  looking  into  each  other's 
eyes,  when  —  God  help  her !  — Agatha  saw  Mercede's 
arms  encircle  her  companion's  neck.  She  thought  to 
see  him  tear  himself  free  and  vindicate  her  faith  in 
him  ;  but,  bending  his  head,  he  spoke  with  deep  feel- 
ing that  was  carried  in  trembling  tones  to  the  ears  of 
his  stricken  wife. 

With  a  muffled  moan  she  turned  away  her  eyes  and 
again  laid  her  swimming  head  against  the  tree.  How 
long  she  sat  there  she  never  knew;  but  when  again 
she  turned  her  eyes  toward  the  spot  where  her  hus- 
band had  stood,  there  was  no  one  in  sight. 

After  the  tableaux  Filippo  had  gone  to  the  ball- 
room to  lead  Agatha  through  the  first  dance.  This 
finished,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  task  of  keeping 
the  floor  well  filled  with  dancers,  and  soon  had  the 
satisfaction  of  feeling  that  his  services  were  no  longer 
needed.  He  went  into  the  ante-sala,  where  Mercede 
sat,  surrounded  as  usual  by  a  circle  of  admirers. 


A    WOMAN'S  PASSION.  365 

"  Are  you  not  dancing,  Mercede  ? "  he  asked, 
joining  the  group. 

"  No  ;  it 's  too  warm  for  my  waning  enthusiasm," 
was  her  answer.  "  Even  here  it  is  very  close. 
Would  you  mind  taking  me  into  the  air  for  a  few 
moments  ?  " 

"  I  should  be  delighted — if  our  friends  will  pardon 
my  stealing  you  from  them." 

When  they  found  themselves  upon  the  lawn  they 
strolled  up  and  down,  until  suddenly  Signer  Veltri 
passed  near  them. 

Loreno  stopped  him  and  offered  his  congratulations 
upon  the  excellence  of  his  orchestra. 

"  You  are  going  in  to  dance,  I  suppose,"  Mercede 
remarked,  eager  to  have  him  leave  them. 

"  I  was  just  on  my  way ;  I  've  been  listening  to 
the  chimes ; "  and  bowing  pleasantly  he  hurried 
toward  the  house,  his  steps  quickened  by  the  notes 
of  a  favorite  waltz. 

"  Shall  we  go  and  hear  Sereno?  "  Filippo  suggested. 

"  I  should  like  nothing  better ; "  and  off  they  went, 
nearly  following  in  the  footsteps  of  Agatha. 

"  How  beautiful  it  all  is ! "  Mercede  exclaimed  as 
they  passed  through  the  grove  glimmering  with  lights 
hidden  among  the  fern  and  the  trembling  foliage. 

"  It  is  pretty ; "  and  Loreno  stopped  to  glance  about 
him  at  the  mystic  effect  of  the  twinkling  flames. 

"  And  all  in  her  honor !  "  Mercede  added.  "  Surely 
Agatha  should  be  a  very  proud  woman  to-night." 

He  laughed  lightly.  "  There  is  but  one  Marchesa 
Loreno,"  he  said, ."and  she  has  but  one  birthday  a 
year." 


366  AGATHA  PAGE. 

His  companion  made  no  answer,  and  after  waiting 
a  moment  he  glanced  at  her  inquiringly.  They  had 
come  to  the  edge  of  the  wood,  and  the  moonlight 
shone  full  into  her  face.  To  his  amazement  he  saw 
that  her  breast  was  heaving,  and  bending  forward  to 
look  into  her  eyes,  found  that  they  were  filled  with 
tears. 

"Why,  Mercede!  what  is  the  matter?"  he  ex- 
claimed, laying  his  hand  impulsively  on  hers  as  it 
rested  upon  his  arm. 

"  It  is  all  so  beautiful,  and  I  am  so  miserable ! "  and 
her  voice  was  choked  with  tears. 

"  My  dear  friend,  how  can  you  speak  so !  "  He 
paused  and  sympathetically  took  both  her  hands  in 
his.  "  Think  what  you  have  in  your  art,  think  what 
you  are  to  Agatha,  and  —  "  his  voice  grew  more  earn- 
est —  "  and  to  me." 

"  What  is  my  art  to  me  ?  "  she  answered  vehe- 
mently. "  It  is  a  stone  given  me  when  my  soul 
craves  bread.  And  Agatha's  love,  —  what  does  it 
amount  to  ?  It  is  not  and  cannot  be  anything  real 
to  her  or  to  me  ;  we  are  both  too  proud." 

"  Too  proud,  Mercede  1  Surely  you  wrong  her  as 
well  as  yourself." 

"  No,  Filippo ;  only  you  are  a  man  and  don't 
understand.  It  is  a  farce,  a  sham,  and  it  doesn't 
deceive  her  or  me.  Can't  you  see  that  for  the  rela- 
tion I  demand  to  be  possible,  Agatha  needs  to  be 
different,  —  more  generous,  or,  if  you  please,  nmic 
humble  ?  But  it 's  hopeless,  and  I  'm  the  one  who 
must  suffer." 

"  Nonsense ! "    and    he    dropped    her   hands   and 


A    WOMAN'S  PASSION.  367 

walked  on  a  few  steps  before  pausing.  "  You  are 
nervous  to-night,  and  things  seem  distorted  to  you." 

"  Call  it  what  you  please,"  and  coming  close  to 
him  she  looked  eagerly  into  his  eyes  ;  "  but  the  fact 
remains  that  you  and  she  have  each  other  and  I  am 
alone.  Agatha  is  your  wife,  and  I  am  practically 
nothing  to  you, —  nothing  in  comparison  to  what  I 
would  be." 

Her  voice  trembled  with  the  power  of  her  surging 
passion  as  she  continued,  "Do  you  not  know  that  I 
must  pant  and  thirst  for  love,  like  other  women, — 
love  in  which  I  am  all  in  all  to  some  one  ?  My  very 
soul,  parched  and  dying  for  love,  cries  out  for  it ! "  she 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  as  with  broken 
voice  she  added,  "  and  to  the  end  of  my  wretched 
life  I  suppose  it  must  be  unsatisfied." 

With  the  final  words  her  self-control  left  her,  and 
she  sobbed  bitterly. 

He  hesitated  an  instant,  and  then  gently  taking  her 
hands  from  her  face,  he  said  with  an  intensity  that 
thrilled  her,  — 

"  Don't  cry  so,  Mercede  ;  is  my  friendship  nothing 
to  you  ?  " 

She  turned  her  wet  eyes  up  to  his  and  stood 
silent,  struggling  to  stay  the  convulsive  sobs  that 
defied  her,  until  presently  the  cry  of  her  heart  broke 
from  her  quivering  lips,  and  her  voice  vibrated  with 
fervor. 

"  Your  friendship,  Filippo  !  It  is  the  bread  of  my 
soul."  Then  creeping  closer  she  clasped  his  hands 
firmly,  and  added  in  a  voice  eloquent  with  tears,  "How 
should  I  live  without  it?  But,  Filippo,  my  Filippo  ! 


368  AGATHA    PAGE. 

why  do  you  not  sometimes  tell  me  of  it  ?  Not  that 
I  doubt  it,  but  I  yearn  for  its  visible  token.  You 
sometimes  seem  to  read  my  very  thoughts,  —  you, 
my  perfect  friend,  my  other  self.  If  I  am  indeed 
to  you  what  I  believe,  give  me  sign  of  it !  Don't 
you  realize  my  need,  dearest?  Do  you  never  feel 
what  it  is  to  live  forever  upon  hope?  Give  me  a 
token,  Filippo ;  to-night,  if  never  again,  give  me  a 
token !  " 

"She  stretched  out  her  trembling  hands  and  gazed 
at  him  wistfully.  Then  suddenly  the  last  vestige  of 
self-restraint  seemed  overborne,  and  with  a  broken 
sob  she  flung  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  sobbed 
upon  his  breast. 

Without  asking  wherefore,  without  pausing  an 
instant,  he  impulsively  folded  his  arms  about  her. 
It  may  have  been  passion,  it  may  have  been  only 
impulsive  sympathy,  but  he  clasped  her  in  his 
arms,  and  with  bated  breath  spoke  words  of  com- 
fort to  her. 

As  she  conquered  her  emotion  he  gently  disen- 
gaged her  arms. 

"  Come,  Mercede,  be  yourself !  "  he  said.  "  We 
should  go  back,  for  I  must  not  stay  any  longer.  I 
will  wet  my  handkerchief  at  the  spring,  and  you  can 
bathe  your  eyes." 

She  looked  up  and  smiled  happily  ;  but  sober  sec- 
ond thought  had  come,  and  his  face  was  grave. 

"  That 's  more  like  your  old  self,"  he  said.  "  Let 
us  be  going." 

She  drew  her  head  up  proudly  and  dashed  the 
tears  from  her  eyes. 


A    WOMAN'S  PASSION.  369 

"  Very  well,  I  am  ready ! "  and  her  tone  was  bitter, 
—  "  ready  to  go  back  and  dance." 

With  white  face  and  glowing  eyes  Agatha  moved 
among  her  guests,  doing  her  duty  as  a  hostess. 
Filippo  had  spoken  to  her  but  once  since  his  re- 
turn to  the  house. 

"  You  must  pardon  me,  Agatha,"  he  had  said, 
"but  I  entirely  forgot  our  waltz.  I  went  out  for 
a  breath  of  air,  and  the  fact  is  that  —  "  But  turn- 
ing her  eyes  full  upon  his,  and  without  a  word,  she 
walked  away  and  left  him. 

"  Oh,  very  well !  "  he  thought,  turning  on  his  heel, 
and  annoyed  that  she  should  take  such  a  trifle  to 
heart.  Therefore  during  the  rest  of  the  evening  he 
avoided  speaking  to  her. 

At  last  the  guests  were  all  gone,  and  Filippo  and 
his  visitors  were  upon  the  veranda  chatting  about  the 
events  of  the  evening,  when  Agatha  came  out  of  the 
house  and  joined  them. 

"  No,  thanks,"  she  said,  as  several  chairs  were 
offered  her.  "  I  won't  stay.  I  've  only  come  to  bid 
you  all  good-night." 

"Why,  Agatha,  what's  the  matter?"  exclaimed 
the  Duchess.  "You  are  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 
Are  you  ill  ?  " 

"Not  in  the  least,"  and  she  tried  to  smile.  "I'm  a 
little  over-tired.  I  '11  go  to  my  room." 

"  Take  my  arm,"  Filippo  said,  springing  to  her 
side. 

"  Thank  you,- 1  don't  need  it ; "  and  she  turned 
and  walked  unsteadily  toward  the  door. 

24 


AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  I  insist ! "  he  said,  following  her. 

But  without  reply  she  sank  into  a  chair,  and  as  her 
husband  bent  over  her  the  failing  nerve  gave  way 
and  consciousness  fled. 

A  little  later  Loreno  brought  news  to  the  awaiting 
group  that  his  wife  was  conscious,  and  resting  quietly. 
She  had  asked  that  no  one  should  speak  to  her,  and 
had  forbidden  him  to  send  for  the  doctor. 

"  She  has  certainly  overtaxed  her  strength,"  sug- 
gested the  General. 

"I  fear,"  Veltri  added,  "that  I  am  greatly  to  blame. 
I  took  the  Marchesa  to  the  west  terrace  to  hear  the 
chimes,  and  she  persuaded  me  to  leave  her  there  ;  she 
had  no  shawl,  and  when  she  came  back  I  saw  that 
she  was  shivering ;  but  later  she  seemed  quite  herself 
again." 

Two  pairs  of  eyes  turned  eagerly  toward  the  young 
musician. 

"  When  was  this  ?  "  demanded  Loreno. 

"  When  I  met  you  and  Madame  AndreV' 

"  And  where  did  you  leave  my  wife  ?  " 

"  On  the  terrace  near  the  spring." 

It  was  Mercede's  voice  which  broke  the  silence. 

"It  was  very  imprudent  of  her,"  were  the  words 
she  uttered. 

"  If  the  Signora  is  ill  I  shall  never  forgive  myself," 
Veltri  answered  sadly. 

Loreno  started  to  his  feet  and  strode  down  the 
steps.  After  a  few  turns  upon  the  lawn  he  returned, 
and  bidding  his  friends  good-night  went  to  his  wife's 
room. 

Agatha  was  lying  with  closed  eyes,  and  he  listened 


A    WOMAN'S  PASSION.  371 

to  learn  if  she  were  asleep.  His  sister,  who  was  sit- 
ting by  the  bed,  rose  and  took  him  aside. 

"  Have  you  sent  for  the  doctor  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No  ;  she  forbade  it." 

"  Perhaps  it 's  as  well ;  perfect  quiet  is  what  she 
needs." 

"  I  wish  I  might  speak  a  word  to  her." 

The  Duchess  paused  to  consider,  and  a  flood  of 
light  fell  upon  the  affair. 

"Not  to-night,"  she  said  ;  "it  might  do  much  harm, 
no  matter  what  it  is.  Wait  until  to-morrow." 

He  stole  back  softly  and  stood  beside  the  bed,  look- 
ing at  the  pale  cheeks  and  at  the  sensitive  lips  that 
did  not  unclose  to  him.  Then  he  turned  away  with 
a  sigh  and  went  toward  his  dressing-room. 

As  he  passed  a  table  upon  which  a  night-light  was 
burning,  his  eye  caught  sight  of  the  illumined  face  of 
the  Sistine  Madonna,  and  as  he  recalled  the  tender 
words  he  had  inscribed  upon  the  picture,  he  hastened 
with  flushed  cheeks  to  his  own  room,  and  dropping 
into  a  chair  buried  his  face  in  his  hands.  The  strain 
of  contending  emotions  regarding  Agatha  and  Mer- 
cede  had  pulled  him  forward  and  backward  until 
sometimes  the  sudden  and  keen  realization  of  the 
fact  caused  him  to  smite  his  brow  in  shame.  A 
man  does  not  become  a  drunkard  in  a  day,  nor  with- 
out moments  of  remorse  and  repulsion  and  ineffect- 
ual struggling.  And  it  was  so  with  Loreno.  He 
had  had  periods  of  bitter  self-condemnation  which 
resulted  in  reaction,  and  sometimes  even  in  a  deter- 
mination to  free  himself  from  his  thraldom  to  Mer- 
cede.  At  such  times  he  would  stimulate  his  affection 


372  AGATHA   PAGE. 

for  Agatha  in  every  way  possible,  straining  every 
nerve  to  persuade  himself  that  he  was  still  honest  in 
his  attitude  toward  her,  and  that  his  feeling  for  Mer- 
cede  was  only  of  a  platonic  nature.  But  the  effort 
was  spasmodic,  and  after  a  sharp  struggle  faded 
under  the  spell  of  Madame  Andrews  fascination.  She 
had  used  her  power  so  skilfully  that  she  had  ever 
grown  more  confident  and  more  aggressive,  and  he 
now  made  scarcely  a  pretence  of  opposing  her  wishes, 
while  her  companionship  and  her  smiles  seemed  to 
constitute  his  chief  happiness.  Yet  to  have  actu- 
ally caressed  her  startled  him  from  his  lethargy.  He 
attempted  no  justification,  and  the  fact  that  Agatha 
had  seen  him  added  nothing  to  his  disgrace.  But 
his  heart  ached  as  he  thought  of  his  wife's  stricken 
heart,  and  he  despised  himself.  Yet  he  laid  no  blame 
upon  Mercede.  He  was  not  the  sort  of  man  to  shelter 
himself  behind  a  woman.  On  the  contrary,  he  palli- 
ated Mercede's  transgression  by  recalling  the  story  of 
her  loneliness,  and  the  unusual  excitement  which  had 
moved  her.  His  mind  was  in  a  state  of  chaos,  and  he 
knew  not  what  to  do.  Although  feeling  that  he  had 
shattered  his  wife's  pure  faith,  he  was  forced  to  admit 
that  he  found  a  certain  consolation  in  the  knowledge 
of  Mercede's  love.  Incredible  as  it  seemed,  he  felt 
this  to  be  true.  Great  God !  had  it  indeed  gone  so 
far?  He  tried  to  believe  that  he  was  self-deceived; 
but  ponder  as  he  would  upon  the  hideousness  of  the 
fact,  he  still  felt  a  sense  of  consolation  in  Mercede's 
ardent  love.  All  that  was  evil  in  him  arose  and 
arrayed- itself  against  all  that  was  good.  Nor  did  the 
passing  hours  bring  certainty  or  peace.  He  did  not 


A    WOMAN'S  PASSION.  373 

indeed  dream  of  actually  disgracing  his  name  and 
that  of  the  sweet  woman  who  bore  it  with  becoming 
honor,  nor  did  he  forget  his  beloved  children  ;  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  felt  that  he  could  not  sever 
his  relation  with  Mercede.  He  had  not  suspected 
until  now  the  depth  of  his  regard  for  her;  but  it 
stood  revealed,  and  he  could  not  deny  its  power. 
Accepting  the  fact,  he  felt  that  he  must  have  oppor- 
tunity to  think.  What  the  outcome  would  be  he 
could  not  yet  decide.  Time  alone  could  guide  him. 
Time  was  essential.  Then  there  came  to  his  mind 
an  offer  from  the  Prime  Minister,  which  had  been 
submitted  to  him  a  few  days  before,  to  intrust  to  him 
a  special  mission  to  Berlin.  He  had  already  dis- 
cussed the  matter  with  Agatha,  who  had  favored  his 
going,  as  it  seemed  both  an  honor  and  a  duty;  but 
for  some  reason,  which  now  he  knew  to  be  unwill- 
ingness to  separate  himself  from  Mercede,  he  had 
not  yet  consented  to  undertake  the  diplomatic  task. 
It  would  afford  him  an  excuse  for  absenting  himself 
from  home.  It  was,  he  thought,  just  the  thing  for 
his  purpose.  He  would  go  to  Berlin. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
A  WOMAN'S  LOVE. 

MEECEDE  felt  that  further  effort  to  hide  the  strug- 
gle between  Agatha  and  herself  would  be  useless. 
Agatha  had  undoubtedly  witnessed  the  interview 
on  the  west  terrace,  and  there  was  no  choice  of 
action  left.  Filippo  must  choose  between  Agatha 
and  her ;  Agatha  would  insist  upon  this,  if  she  did 
not.  Therefore  it  were  better  for  her  to  take  the 
initiative,  and  leaving  Varese  in  the  morning,  go  to 
Rome  and  await  Filippo's  decision.  She  did  not 
doubt  Loreno's  love  for  her,  in  spite  of  the  manner 
in  which  he  had  cut  short  their  tete-a-tete.  That 
was  a  remnant  of  his  hide-bound  conventionality  ;  it 
was  a  last  attempt  to  resist  the  force  of  his  human 
nature.  No  matter  who  claimed  him  now,  his  heart, 
she  told  herself,  was  hers  ;  and  sooner  or  later  a  man 
will  follow  his  inclination,  bending  everything  to  con- 
form to  it. 

She  packed  up  her  things  as  well  as  she  could,  and 
went  downstairs  early,  in  the  hope  of  seeing  Filippo  ; 
nor  was  she  disappointed.  He  was  evidently  expect- 
ing her. 

"I'm  going  to  Milan  this  morning,  and  to  Rome 
to-night,"  she  announced,  after  they  had  greeted 
each  other. 


A    WOMAN'S  LOVE.  375 

"  I  hope  you  will  reconsider  your  resolve." 

"You  do?" 

"  Certainly.  Our  walk,  Agatha's  sudden  illness, 
followed  by  your  hasty  departure  —  cannot  you  see 
how  it  will  excite  remark  ?  " 

"But  I  must  also  consider'my  own  dignity,  and  I 
prefer  not  to  remain." 

"  No  doubt ;  but  are  you  not  willing  to  sacri- 
fice something  personal  for  the  sake  of  all  three 
of  us  ?  " 

"  I  prefer  to  go,  that 's  one  ;  Agatha  would  prefer 
to  have  me  go,  that 's  two ;  and  would  you  not  be 
governed  by  our  wishes  ?  " 

"  No,  Mercede,"  he  said  firmly,  "  you  ought  not 
and  must  not  go  to-day.  It  will  be  hard,  very  hard 
ior  all  of  us,  but  you  must  stay  and  bear  your  part. 
If  Agatha  is  better  this  morning,  you  can  perhaps 
make  your  work  an  excuse  for  leaving  to-morrow  or 
the  day  following  ;  but  not  to-day." 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment,  her  eyes  half  closed. 
"  As  you  ask  it,  I  will  remain,"  she  said  ;  "  but  it  is 
to  please  you  that  I  stay,  and  not  through  fear  of  the 
rest  of  them.  I  wish,  Filippo,  that  you  could  eman- 
cipate yourself  from  such  respect  for  the  world's 
opinion.  Why  should  you  regard  such  an  unequal 
bargain?  The  world  gives  you  nothing  in  return 
for  your  sacrifices.  It  is  not  a  friend  who  glorifies 
your  merits  and  excuses  your  shortcomings ;  it  is 
an  enemy  searching  for  your  unguarded  point,  —  it 
strives  to  strike  your  heel,  not  your  breastplate.  If 
you  really  fear  the  shafts  of  the  world,  pray  don't  go 
into  battle,  but  remain  in  the  ranks  of  its  courtiers, 


376  AGATHA   PAGE. 

craving  its  sneering  favor  and  seeking  safety  through 
its  royal  compassion.  I  don't  believe  it  will  avail 
you  anything ;  but  it  may,  and  I  don't  wish  to  lead 
you  into  danger." 

He  tossed  his  head  impatiently.  "  How  you  rush 
on  !  "  he  said ;  "  can  you  really  see  no  difference  be- 
tween cowardice  and  bravado  ?  It  is  beneath  me  to 
defend  myself  from  such  a  charge  as  yours ;  but  in 
my  opinion  it  requires  more  courage  to  stay  here  to- 
day than  to  run  away." 

She  saw  that  she  had  gone  too  far,  and  the  all- 
absorbing  desire  of  her  life  was  to  be  in  sympathy 
with  him.  No  courtier  of  the  world  could  have  ex- 
ceeded in  sleepless  vigilance  the  regard  she  paid  to 
his  favor.  She  was  his  serf,  his  helot.  This  was  not 
the  first  time  she  had  curbed  her  impetuosity  at  his 
bidding.  It  was  her  indefinite  idea  of  duty,  and  in 
yielding  to  him  thus,  she  felt  that  she  both  honored 
him  and  drew  nearer  to  him.  Not  without  the 
womanly  instinct  to  acknowledge  a  master,  she  was 
willing  in  this  thing  to  be  like  other  women  —  or  at 
least  to  try  the  experiment. 

"Very  well,  Filippo,"  and  her  manner  was  most 
exemplary ;  "  if  you  think  so,  I  am  contented  to  follow 
your  guidance.  But  if  possible,  I  should  like  to  get 
away  to-morrow." 

"  I  also  may  go  in  a  day  or  so,"  he  said ;  "  I  have 
been  considering  a  special  mission  to  Berlin  offered 
me  a  few  days  ago,  and  now  I  am  greatly  tempted  to 
undertake  it." 

Her  eyes  shone  with  pleasure.  "How  delightful!  " 
she  exclaimed.  "  We  could  go  together  and  pass 


.-1    WOMAX'S   LOVE.  377 

a  few  days  in  Rome  before  you  start.  How  long 
would  you  be  in  Berlin  ?  " 

"  It  is  impossible  to  tell ;  perhaps  a  month." 

"  And  then  you  would  return  to  Rome  to  re- 
port?" 

"  Certainly." 

She  saw  her  opportunity  for  testing  him.  Agatha 
would  wish  him  not  to  go. 

"  I  hope  you  will  accept  the  mission,"  she  said. 

"  I  shall  consult  with  Agatha,  and  decide  during 
the  day." 

"I  hope  you  will  accept,"  she  repeated  impres- 
sively. 

Loreno  dreaded  to  meet  his  wife.  He  pictured  to 
himself  her  face,  which  would  be  white  and  reproach- 
ful ;  and  her  manner,  which  would  be  cold  and  scorn- 
ful. Yet  it  must  be  gone  through  with  unless  a 
break  in  their  relations  were  openly  acknowledged ; 
so  he  hovered  about  the  house  all  the  morning, 
waiting  to  hear  that  she  would  receive  him.  The 
Duchess  was  with  her,  and  remained  until  luncheon, 
when  she  reported  that  Agatha  seemed  quite  herself, 
and  was  dressing. 

After  luncheon  Filippo  joined  his  sister,  and  they 
walked  away  together  across  the  lawn. 

"  I  think  of  going  to  Berlin  in  a  day  or  two,"  he 
said  ;  "  could  n't  you  arrange  to  stay  with  Agatha, 
for  a  time  at  least  ?  " 

"  How  long  will  you  be  away  ?  " 

"  Probably  a  month." 

"  Shall  you  ga  whether  I  stay  or  not  ?  " 

"Yes." 


378  AGATHA  PAGE. 

"  Then  I  '11  stay." 

There  was  something  so  abrupt  in  her  acceptance, 
without  regard  to  her  other  summer  arrangements, 
and  without  waiting  to  consult  her  husband,  that  he 
looked  at  her  with  surprise. 

"  You  had  better  consider  the  matter  a  little  before 
deciding,"  he  suggested. 

"  No ;  I  '11  remain." 

"  Thank  you." 

"  Don't  thank  me"  she  replied ;  " thank  Madame 
AndreV' 

"  What  has  she  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  She  has  made  it  impossible  for  you  to  remain, 
and  therefore  necessary  that  I  should." 

"I  think  we  had  better  leave  Madame  Andre"  s  name 
out  of  the  matter  ; "  and  his  manner  was  formal. 

"  She  and  you,  between  you,  have  made  that 
difficult." 

He  turned  rapidly.  "  What  do  you  mean  ? "  he 
demanded.  "  Has  Agatha  said  anything  to  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  words  were  not  needed  to  tell  this  sad 
affair." 

He  tried  to  look  defiantly  at  her,  but  could  not. 

"  Filippo  —  dear  boy  ! "  and  her  eyes  grew  soft  as 
she  regarded  him,  "  do  you  realize  what  you  are 
doing?  Knot  —  " 

"I  really  don't  wish  advice,"  he  interrupted. 

"  I  cannot  help  that.  If  you  don't  realize  your 
position,  it 's  my  duty  to  point  it  out ;  if  you  do,  then 
it 's  my  duty  to  protest." 

"  I  fail  to  see  this  as  you  do,  therefore  oblige  me 
by  dropping  the  subject." 


A    WOMAWS  LOVE.  379 

"  Drop  the  subject,  Filippo !  "  she  echoed.  "  I, 
my  father's  daughter,  not  protest  when  I  see  the 
Marquis  Loreno  trifling  with  the  name  he  at  present 
represents  !  Drop  the  protest  of  a  wife  and  a  woman 
in  behalf  of  one  who  cannot  protest ! " 

"  4  Cannot '  ?"  and  he  smiled  dubiously.  "  On  the 
contrary,  I  believe  she  will,  and  that  strongly." 

"  Then  you  do  not  know  Agatha  as  well  as  I  do  ; 
but  as  for  that,  I  am  confident  that  you  do  not. 
Otherwise  how  could  you  slight  —  even  dishonor  her 
for  the  sake  of  a  woman  whose  whole  —  " 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  exclaimed  sternly,  "  I  forbid  any 
discourtesy  of  speech  concerning  Madame  Andre'. " 

"  Oh ! "  and  the  fine  features  denoted  infinite 
scorn.  "  Then  in  the  name  of  your  wife,  in  whose 
behalf  I  spoke,  let  me  crave  Madame  Andre"s  pardon 
and  yours." 

His  dark  face  flushed  deeply  and  his  fingers  played 
nervously  against  the  palms  of  his  hands.  "  I  will 
not  deny,"  he  said  with  a  sincere  effort  to  control 
himself,  "  that  I  have  acted  wrongly,  even  disgrace- 
fully ;  so  blame  me  as  bitterly  as  you  please,  but  keep 
the  name  of  Madame  Andre*  out  of  it.  She  is  not  to 
blame." 

"  That  may  be  manly,  or  heroic,  or  anything  you 
choose  to  call  it,  but  it's  not  the  truth !  That 
woman  is  as  much  to  blame  as  you  are,  and  that 's 
saying  a  great  deal.  But  let  us  keep  her  name  out 
of  it,  if  it  pleases  you  to  do  so.  Of  one  thing,  how- 
ever, be  assured  :  you  are  being  terribly  deceived ; 
whether  self-deceived  or  not  does  n't  much  matter. 
Let  me  tell  you  that  the  crisis  has  come,  and  you 


380  AGATHA   PAGE. 

must  now  decide  whether,  in  plain  words,  you  will 
sacrifice  the  happiness  of  your  wife  and  your  chil- 
dren —  not  to  mention  the  respect  of  your  friends 
and  of  your  sister  —  to  an  indefensible  and  self- 
ish passion.  I  grieve  for  you  to-day,  Filippo,  and 
long  to  help  you  ;  but  if  you  deliberately  choose 
selfish  shame  to  honor,  I  shall  learn  to  despise 

you." 

He  drew  a  quick  breath,  and  the  intuitive  closing 
of  his  eyes  showed  how  squarely  the  blow  had  struck 
him. 

"  That  is  strong  language,"  he  said. 

"  Is  it  unjust  ?  " 

He  turned  away,  and  stood  looking  at  a  distant 
point  where  the  blue  sky  met  the  undulating  line  of 
the  mountains.  "  No,"  he  said  after  a  long  silence, 
"  no ;  I  only  wonder  that  you  don't  despise  me 
already." 

The  great  love  she  bore  him  welled  into  her  eyes, 
and  she  went  nearer  to  him. 

"  Filippo  dear,"  she  said  with  mellow  voice,  "  it  is 
not  for  me  to  praise  Agatha :  such  a  noble  nature 
as  hers  it  is  difficult  to  praise.  I  can  admire  and 
describe  Agatha's  beauty,  as  I  admire  and  praise  a 
lovely  work  of  art ;  but  her  character  defies  descrip- 
tion, for  it  is  as  marvellous  to  me  as  the  depth  and 
color  of  that  sky  above  us.  When  to  such  loveliness 
you  prefer  the  dazzle  of  a  gaming-table,  do  you. 
wonder  that  I  tremble  for  you  ?  Perhaps,  after  all, 
it  may  be  well  for  you  to  go  away  a  little  while, 
to  learn  what  a  false,  unhealthy  condition  of  mind 
yours  is." 


A    WOMAN'S  LOVE.  381 

They  were  silent  for  a  few  moments.  "  If  that 
is  all  you  wish  to  say  to  me,"  he  said,  breaking  the 
silence,  "  I  will  go  back  and  speak  with  Agatha.  If 
she  objects  seriously  I  will  promise  not  to  go  away ; 
otherwise  I  think  an  absence  of  a  few  weeks  will  be 
wise." 

"  Very  well,"  she  replied  ;  then  taking  his  hand 
she  added  earnestly,  "  Filippo,  you  've  been  terribly 
weak,  but  I  can't  believe  that  you  are  false-hearted." 

He  walked  rapidly  away  and  went  directly  to 
Agatha's  boudoir,  but  to  his  surprise  heard  that  she 
had  taken  her  hat  and  gone  for  a  walk.  He  longed 
for  the  dreaded  interview  to  be  over,  and  chafed  at 
the  delay ;  but  since  she  had  gone  off  alone  he  would 
not  follow  her.  Throwing  himself  upon  the  sofa  he 
gave  himself  up  to  gloomy  thoughts  as  he  awaited 
her  return. 

At  last  he  heard  her  footstep,  and  as  she  turned 
the  handle  of  the  door  he  arose  and  went  toward  her. 
On  catching  sight  of  him  she  paused  involuntarily, 
and  then  smiling  said, — 

"  Oh,  is  it  you,  dear  ?  The  room  seems  dark  after 
being  in  the  bright  sunlight." 

This  was  quite  different  from  what  he  had  ex- 
pected. 

"  Yes.  I  'm  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  better  this 
morning." 

"  I  've  been  having  a  stroll  with  Padre  Sacconi  and 
Mr.  Dow.  We  went  down  to  the  pond  and  saw  the 
children  testing  the  canoe  Mr.  Dow  gave  them.  It 
glides  beautifully  and  very  swiftly." 

"  I  must  try  and  see  it  before  I  go."     She  looked 


382  AGATHA   PAGE. 

tip  with  a  startled  face,  and  he  hastened  to  add, 
"  I  'm  quite  in  favor  of  going  to  Berlin,  and  came  to 
talk  with  you  about  it." 

Her  courage  wavered  for  a  moment,  and  the  im- 
pulse to  beg  him  not  to  leave  her  at  this  terrible 
time  was  almost  irresistible  ;  but  she  conquered  the 
temptation. 

"You  are  the  best  judge,"  she  said,  "  for  you  know 
whether  the  possible  advantages  will  reward  you  for 
the  fatigue  and  discomfort."  He  had  resumed  his 
seat  upon  the  small  sofa,  and  having  taken  off  her 
hat  she  came  and  seated  herself  beside  him.  "  Still," 
she  continued,  "  we  shall  all  miss  you  dreadfully ;  so 
I  don't  suppose  I  'm  quite  impartial." 

"  I  've  thought  it  over,  and  have  decided  that  I 
had  better  go.  But,"  he  added  hastily,  "  if  you 
object,  I  am  willing  to  give  it  up." 

Her  heart  beat  more  quickly  and  her  eyes  bright- 
ened, but  her  face  was  in  shadow,  and  he  could  not 
see  the  effect  of  his  declaration. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  she  replied  warmly;  "  but  if  it 's 
to  your  advantage  to  go,  of  course  I  don't  object. 
You  would  be  away  about  a  month  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  I  go." 

"  Of  course,  dear,  a  month  seems  a  long  time  ;  but 
the  same  reason  that  makes  me  miss  you  would  be 
my  reason  for  urging  you  to  go." 

"  And  what  may  that  be  ? "  he  inquired  most 
practically. 

She  leaned  toward  him  a  little  and  laid  her  hand 
upon  his,  "  Because  I  love  you,"  she  said,  looking 
at  him  with  unutterable  feeling. 


A    WOMAN'S  LOVE.  383 

He  started.  The  interview  was  actually  becoming 
more  painful  than  he  had  expected.  Could  he  be 
mistaken  ?  Was  her  illness,  after  all,  only  the  result 
of  fatigue? 

Her  eager  eyes  dwelt  upon  his  lovingly,  longingly. 
He  looked  into  their  blue  depths,  and  the  impulse 
seized  him  to  kneel  at  her  feet  and  crave  her  forgive- 
ness; but  he  hesitated,  then  wavered  —  then  the 
feeling  subsided  and  was  gone. 

"  Since  you  really  don't  object,  I  think  I  '11  start 
on  Thursday,"  he  said. 

"  So  soon  !  "  and  her  voice  trembled. 

"  Yes  ;  I  must  go  to  Rome  to  report,  and  I  've  de- 
layed already  longer  than  I  should  have  done." 

"  To  Rome  !  " 

He  caught  the  words,  and  his  face  grew  darker. 
She  had  evidently  heard  of  Mercede's  intention. 

".  I  shall  have  to  go  there  for  a  day  or  two  to 
receive  instructions." 

A  day  or  two !  Ah,  what  might  not  their  result 
be  just  at  this  time,  with  Mercede  at  hand  employing 
the  whole  power  of  her  charm  to  tear  away  the 
already  strained  bonds  which  bound  him  to  his  own  ? 
Agatha  grew  pallid  and  faint  with  the  crushing  pain 
that  encircled  her  heart.  But  her  guardian  angel, 
or  whatever  that  beneficent  force  may  be  which 
sometimes  rescues  us  from  sudden  peril,  revived  her 
staggering  will  and  upheld  her  in  her  great  purpose. 
If  she  abandoned  her  faith  in  the  inherent  power  of 
her  husband's  better  nature  ultimately  to  arise  and 
control  him,  if  she' abandoned  her  silent  appeal  to  his 
higher  qualities,  then  her  battle  in  behalf  of  herself 


384  AGATHA   PAGE. 

and  her  children  was  hopelessly  lost.  This  conviction 
possessed  her;  she  felt  it,  she  knew  it,  and  her  pur- 
pose and  faith  grew  strong  again.  She  found  herself 
pacing  the  floor,  and  going  behind  him  she  put  her 
arms  around  his  neck  and  laid  her  cheek  against  his 
head. 

44  My  darling,"  and  her  voice  was  low,  "  wherever 
you  are,  you  are  mine,  and  God  will  guard  you  for 
me." 

He  bowed  his  head,  nor  could  he  have  spoken  had 
he  not  been  dumb  with  shame. 

Through  the  hours  of  the  past  night  Agatha  had 
lain  motionless,  seeming  only  to  have  power  to  suf- 
fer. She  did  not  think,  she  only  felt :  the  actual 
present  alone  stood  out  before  her,  without  past  or 
future. 

"  Take  me,  oh  God,  take  me  ! "  was  the  constant 
reiteration  of  her  soul.  The  union  which  had  made 
her  life  blessed,  which  she  had  believed  would  even 
reach  into  eternity,  was,  after  all,  but  a  creation  of 
her  own  mind. 

Stricken,  benumbed,  she  lay,  till  a  sound  from 
Sebastiiino,  in  the  next  room,  roused  her.  Raising 
herself  in  bed  she  looked  at  Teresa,  who  lay  in  a  orii> 
beside  her.  Then  despair  past  control  overwhelmed 
her,  and  springing  from  her  bed  she  flew  to  the  room 
of  her  little  son  and  threw  herself  upon  her  knees  be- 
side him.  She  longed  to  lay  her  cheek  against  his, 
to  take  his  hand,  to  feel  the  warmth  of  his  hum;m  na- 
ture, the  beating  of  the  little  heart  that  loved  her  and 
was  loyal  to  her;  and  her  eager  eyes  dwelt  yearningly 
upon  him. 


A    WOMAN'S  LOVE.  385 

"  Oh,  my  little  boy,  our  boy ! "  she  murmured  softly; 
and  stretching  her  arms  out  into  the  blackness,  her 
anguish  found  utterance  that  must  have  pierced  to 
the  heart  of  the  Almighty. 

"  Have  mercy  !  have  mercy! "  she  sobbed.  "  Thou 
worker  of  miracles,  give  me  back  my  husband  !  " 

Sinking  to  the  floor,  she  leaned  her  head  against 
the  bed.  Thus  she  sat  until  the  morning  light  began 
to  creep  in  at  the  window,  and  gradually  her  mind 
grew  calmer. 

Returning  to  her  room,  she  threw  a  warm  wrapper 
about  her  and  went  to  her  boudoir.  The  blinds  were 
up,  and  the  sight  that  met  her  eyes  was  one  of  radiant 
beauty  ;  she  drew  to  the  window  an  arm-chair,  and 
leaning  back  in  it  watched  the  rising  of  the  sun  and 
tried  to  think. 

The  shock  of  last  night  had  subjected  her  faith  in 
her  husband  to  a  supreme  test.  "  Yet,"  she  reasoned, 
"  the  measure  of  faith  is  not  in  the  hour  of  enthu- 
siasm, but  of  despair."  Little  by  little  she  was  able 
to  •  consider  the  question  of  continued  faith  with 
toleration  if  not  with  confidence,  and  at  last,  her 
mind  having  become  much  calmer,  she  went  back 
to  her  room  and  soon  fell  into  a  deep,  dreamless 
sleep. 

When  she  awoke,  the  morning  was  nearly  gone. 
She  rang  for  her  maid,  and  the  Duchess,  who  also 
came  to  her,  seemed  amazed  at  her  patient's  an- 
nouncement that  she  was  feeling  very  well,  and 
intended  to  dress  after  drinking  her  coffee. 

Agatha  felt,  in-  spite  of  her  brave  announce- 
ment, that  she  would  be  glad  of  a  further  respite 

25 


386  AGATHA   PAGE. 

before  meeting  Mercede ;  and  when  the  others 
were  at  luncheon  she  went  downstairs  and  made 
her  way  to  the  grove,  where  she  threw  herself  upon 
a  bank  and  reviewed  the  all-absorbing  subject. 

"  I  must  force  myself,"  she  said,  "  to  act  as  though 
I  had  seen  nothing.  Damning  as  it  was,  I  will  have 
faith,  not  in  what  I  saw,  but  in  what  I  feel ;  if  I  am 
wise,  and  true  to  my  convictions,  Filippo  will  come 
back  to  me.  This  very  act  of  faith  may  hasten  the 
happy  hour,  who  knows?" 

She  sat  motionless  for  some  time,  and  then  added 
mentally,  "  My  part  is  to  keep  the  conditions  as  fa- 
vorable as  possible ;  to  keep  the  light  burning,  and 
to  await  patiently  the  time  when  Filippo's  true 
nature,  challenged  by  my  faith,  shall  bring  him  back 
to  me." 

She  heard  the  voices  of  Francesco  and  Sebas- 
tiano,  who  were  coming  across  the  lawn,  and  rising 
quickly  hastened  toward  them.  Padre  Sacconi  was 
with  them,  and  Mr.  Dow  was  coming  down  the 
veranda  steps.  Farther  to  the  left,  near  the  green- 
houses, she  caught  sight  of  Mercede  and  Filippo 
standing  together,  and  as  Padre  Sacconi  extended 
his  hand  tenderly,  he  remarked  upon  her  unusual 
whiteness,  and  urged  her  not  again  to  overtax  her 
strength. 

Mercede  managed  to  avoid  meeting  Agatha  until 
late  in  the  day,  by  going  for  a  long  drive  with  Mr. 
Dow,  who,  to  her  surprise,  had  given  her  the  invita- 
tion at  luncheon.  Indeed,  it  seemed  a  day  of  mys- 
terious tete-a-tetes ;  for  just  as  Agatha  was  settled 
in  an  arm-chair  on  the  veranda  with  the  Duke  as  a 


A    WOMAN'S  LOVE.  387 

companion,  Yeltri  joined  them,  and  after  expressing 
his  delight  at  seeing  her  so  well  again,  asked  the 
Duke  if  he  might  have  a  few  words  with  him,  where- 
upon the  two  gentlemen  walked  into  the  house.  An 
hour  later  the  Duke  and  Gaeta  left  the  house  to- 
gether, and  crossing  the  lawn,  disappeared  among 
the  trees. 

When  Loreno  arrived  in  Rome,  he  went  to  his  own 
apartment  to  breakfast. 

He  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for  Agatha's  con- 
duct under  circumstances  her  knowledge  of  which 
he  no  longer  doubted.  Even  to  the  last  she  had 
given  no  sign  of  resentment,  but  had  been  both 
natural  and  lovely  of  manner.  Indeed,  he  did  not 
know  how  she  could  have  been  more  tender  with 
him,  or  more  solicitous  concerning  his  comfort 
during  his  absence.  She  had  superintended  the 
packing  of  his  valise,  and  included  among  his  ef- 
fects various  little  vials  containing  medicines  for 
such  sudden  illnesses  as  might  overtake  him  ;  she 
had  with  her  own  hands  done  some  little  mending 
that  was  needed;  she  had  filled  his  flask  and  his 
cigar-case, — in  short,  done  everything  she  could. 
There  must  be  some  good  reason  which  led  her  to 
ignore  the  evidence  of  her  eyes.  He  knew  that  in 
such  a  crisis  any  woman,  and  especially  a  woman 
so  thoughtful  as  Agatha,  must  realize  the  impor- 
tance of  the  moment,  and  conduct  herself  in  ac- 
cordance with  some  settled  purpose,  be  that  purpose 
dictated  b}'  passion  or  by  wisdom.  It  would  not 
do,  therefore,  to  brush  aside  patient  striving  after 


388  AGATHA   PAGE. 

her  reason,  with  an  indolent  theory,  and  for  the 
past  two  days  his  mind  had  been  absorbed  in  search- 
ing for  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  her  unexpected 
attitude.  As  a  result  to  his  ardent  endeavor,  he 
found  himself  always  driven  back  to  one  and  the 
same  theory :  he  was  simply  forced  to  believe  that 
it  was  the  result  of  implicit  faith.  Yes,  there  was 
no  doubt  that  Agatha  still  had  faith  in  him  ;  nor 
was  it  blind  faith,  for  she  had  given  ample  though 
involuntary  evidence  of  the  terrible  shock  of  her 
awakening.  Why,  then,  did  she  still  believe  in  him  ? 
It  was  extraordinary. 

Although  Mercede  was  by  no  means  banished  from 
his  thoughts,  he  recognized  the  fact  that  the  an- 
ticipation of  seeing  her  was  less  active,  less  eager, 
than  it  had  been  for  months.  His  mind  reverted 
constantly  to  Agatha,  and  when  he  found  himself 
reviewing  with  careful  minuteness  the  events  con- 
nected with  his  relations  toward  Mercede,  it  was 
only  as  bearing  upon  the  conduct  of  his  wife.  He 
wondered  that  she  had  not  noted  until  now  how 
close  his  intimacy  with  her  cousin  had  become.  But 
had  she  not  noted  it?  His  mere  opinion  was  not  evi- 
dence. Then  he  recalled  the  unveiling  of  the  Tristan 
and  Isolde,  the  first  ride  she  had  taken  with  Mercede 
and  himself,  and  a  dozen  other  indications  of  her 
knowledge,  to  which  only  his  own  selfishness  had 
blinded  him. 

Indeed,  had  not  all  Rome  talked  of  this  intimacy? 
Even  Veltri,  while  a  guest  in  his  house,  had  plainly 
protested  against  it ;  and  last  of  all,  Costanza  had 
upbraided  him  for  it  It  were  childish  then  to  doubt 


A    WOMAN S  LOVE.  389 

the   equal   perception  of  her  whose   happiness   and 
honor  were  at  stake. 

Thus  it  was  that  after  hours  of  intense  retrospec- 
tion, both  day  and  night,  a  rift  was  made  in  the  cloud 
that  enveloped  his  mind,  —  that  a  bright  shaft  of 
sunlight  pierced  its  darkness  and  fell  upon  the  golden 
thread  of  his  wife's  faith.  As  it  was  illumined,  he 
saw  it  from  end  to  end,  and  cursed  his  incredible 
selfishness. 

Yet  Mercede  came  in  for  no  part  of  his  censure. 
Even  now  he  palliated  whatever  he  could  not  justify 
in  her  conduct,  both  on  the  ground  of  her  strong 
humanity  and  because  of  that  mysterious  personality 
ascribed  to  genius,  to  which  general  opinion  permits 
uncommon  license.  In  spite  of  everything,  as  he 
thought  of  Mercede  his  heart  beat  rapidly.  Her 
mind  was  so  fresh,  her  spirit  so  unflagging  —  she 
stimulated  him.  While  Agatha  was  a  devoted  wife, 
a  wise  mother,  a  lovely  and  unselfish  woman,  Mer- 
cede's  nature  was  drawn  in  bolder  lines,  and  should 
occasion  demand  she  would  rise,  no  doubt,  to  the 
plane  of  absolute  hefoism.  Could  Agatha,  for  ex- 
ample, have  faced  misfortune  as  Mercede  had  faced 
it?  Did  she  possess  the  necessary  force  of  character  ? 
Tenderness  and  devotion  in  a  woman  were  much,  but 
not  everything. 

Yet  he  must  admit  that  in  her  present  trial  his  wife 
was  displaying  an  unostentatious  strength  that  sur- 
prised him.  Her  self-restraint  was  wonderful.  He 
doubted  if  Mercede  herself  could  have  rivalled  her 
in  this  respect.  His  mind,  now  bent  upon  compari- 
son, was  permitted  full  license  ;  he  began  to  search 


AGATHA   PAGE. 

honestly  for  the  truth.  What  result,  he  asked  him- 
self at  last,  had  come  from  the  stimulus  which  he 
claimed  for  Mercede's  companionship?  It  stimulated 
him  certainly,  but  did  it  actually  strengthen  him  ? 
Had  it  direction?  Where  did  it  lead  him?  What 
had  it  really  done  for  him  ?  He  pondered  these 
questions  for  hours,  with  increasing  perception  of 
the  truth.  On  the  other  hand,  was  Agatha's  influ- 
ence equally  without  worthy  product?  Was  she  not, 
indeed,  an  active  force  for  good  in  his  life  ?  Would 
his  interests  have  been  the  same  had  her  interests 
been  more  conventional  ?  More  conventional !  He 
was  struck  by  the  word.  He  had  hitherto  regarded 
Mercede  as  unconventional,  and  admired  the  charac- 
teristic ;  yet  surely  the  same  was  true  of  his  wife. 
She  also  was  unconventional,  although  in  a  different 
way.  Even  in  this  affair  she  had  been  unconven- 
tional in  the  highest  sense,  and  as  his  mind  reverted 
again  to  that  faith  which  nothing  could  shake,  he 
asked  himself,  what  could  account  for  it  ? 

Then,  as  he  realized  the  full  significance  of  his 
wonder,  his  eyes  closed  with  pain.  Was  he  indeed 
so  unworthy  of  a  pure  trust?  He  could  not  deny 
the  truth,  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  over- 
whelmed by  the  weight  of  his  shame.  Little  by 
little,  amid  black  anguish,  his  thoughts  centred  upon 
the  one  vital  fact, — Agatha1  s  faith.  Unswerving  in 
the  face  of  long-accruing  and  absolute  proof,  un- 
daunted by  even  the  evidence  of  the  senses,  that 
faith  brought  consciousness  to  his  benumbed  spirit ; 
it  aroused  hope.  He  pondered  upon  it,  not  alone 
with  increasing  wonder,  but  with  deep  gratitude. 


A    WOMAN'S  LOVE,  391 

He  dwelt  upon  it  far  into  the  afternoon,  his  mind 
groping  nearer  and  nearer  the  light,  until,  at  last,  his 
feeling  found  vent  in  glowing  enthusiasm. 

"  That  is  the  sort  of  thing  that  both  stimulates  and 
strengthens  a  man,"  he  exclaimed  half  aloud.  "  It 's 
splendid !  It 's  superb  !  By  God,  it 's  heroic  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

"MORE   LASTING  THAN  BRONZE." 

WITH  the  exception  of  the  Duchess,  Mr.  Dow 
and  Signer  Veltri  were  the  only  guests  remaining 
at  the  Villa  Loreno,  and  they  were  to  start  in  the 
afternoon  for  Stresa.  They  were  seated  in  an  ar- 
bor a  little  distance  from  the  house,  talking  in 
low  tones,  when  suddenly  Agatha  appeared  before 
them. 

Her  face  told  them  that  her  news  was  bad. 

"  I  'm  very  sorry,"  she  began,  "  but  I  must  ask  you 
to  go  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Has  it  broken  out  in  town  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Dow. 

"  Yes,  worse  ;  two  of  our  tenants  have  just  been 
stricken  down,  and  the  doctor  says  it  is  undoubtedly 
cholera." 

"  And  you  and  the  children  ;  where  do  you  go  ?  " 

"  The  Duchess  will  take  the  children  immediately, 
within  an  hour,  to  Erba." 

"And  you?" 

"  I  must  remain,"  she  answered  quietly.  ^*  I  am 
needed  here,  if  only  to  give  the  people  courage." 

"  But,  Marchesa,"  protested  Veltri,  "  surely  you 
will  not  risk  your  precious  life  so  needlessly  !  " 

"  I  do  not  consider  the  risk  to  be  needless." 


"MORE  LASTING   THAN  BRONZE."        393 

"  But  what  real  good  can  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  can  be  useful  in  many  ways  which  I  cannot  stop 
to  explain,  for  I  must  hurry  back  to  the  children  ;  I 
expect  a  cordon  to  be  put  round  the  place  at  any 
moment ; "  and  she  turned  away. 

"Then  you  are  determined,  Marchesa?"  called 
Veltri. 

"  Quite,"  she  replied  without  stopping. 

The  two  men  sat  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  leaving  her  here  alone," 
suggested  Mr.  Dow. 

"  I  intend  to  remain,"  was  the  answer. 

"You  do?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  I  'm  willing  to  stay  also." 

"  That  won't  be  necessary,  for  the  Marquis  will 
of  course  return.  I,  who  owe  everything  I  am  to 
them,  am  more  than  happy  at  this  chance  to  serve 
them.  You  have  neither  this  reason  nor  the  one  of 
being  needed." 

"  Then  I  '11  see  the  Duchess  safe  at  Erba  and  stay 
at  the  inn,  and  you  must  telegraph  me  every  day 
how  the  Marchesa  is  and  how  you  are  ;  and  I'll  see 
that  the  news  is  taken  straight  to  the  Villa  Faviola. 
If  you  fail  to  send  word  on  any  day,  we  shall  know 
that  you  are  ill,  and  in  that  case  I'll  come  and  look 
after  you." 

Veltri  grasped  the  honest  hand  warmly. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said  ;  "  but  don't  think  of  doing 
such  an  imprudent  thing.  Your  coming  could  n't 
help  me." 

"  But  it  might  comfort  Gaeta." 


394  AGATHA  PAGE. 

They  stood  looking  into  each  other's  eyes  for  a 
moment. 

"  Very  well,  then  let  it  be  so,"  said  Veltri. 

"  And  I  '11  answer  your  telegrams  every  day,  and 
give  you  our  news." 

The  only  answer  was  a  grateful  pressure  of  the 
hand. 

"  And  now  I  'm  off,  for  I  must  speak  a  word  to  the 
Marchesa  ; "  and  they  hurried  toward  the  house. 

Mercede  sat  in  her  studio  holding  a  chisel  in  her 
hand,  but  the  hand  had  fallen  to  her  side  listlessly, 
and  her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  floor.  Try  as  she 
would,  she  could  not  work  to-day.  Her  thoughts 
were  engrossed  with  Filippo.  And  so  it  had  been 
since  morning.  She  could  not  concentrate  her  mind 
upon  anything  except  his  sudden  change  of  manner. 
It  chilled  her ;  it  did  more,  it  almost  crushed  her.  In 
the  first  place,  he  had  arrived  in  town  the  previous 
morning  and  had  not  come  to  her  for  nearly  twenty- 
four  hours.  His  excuse  was  the  engrossing  nature  of 
the  mission  he  had  undertaken.  Surely  he  could  have 
spared  her  an  hour,  if  only  in  the  evening  ;  and  when 
she  chided  him,  although  slightly,  he  grew  silent  and 
at  first  her  pride  was  touched.  But  when  her  heart 
cried  out  and  she  began  impulsively  to  tell  him  how 
she  had  longed  to  see  him  and  how  unkind  he  had 
been,  he  seemed  unresponsive,  and  an  ominous  fear 
seized  her  and  forbade  her  pressing  him  further. 

In  reply  to  her  inquiry  concerning  Agatha's  health 
he  had  answered  somewhat  formally,  and  then  ab- 
ruptly changed  the  subject.  At  the  end  of  half  an 


"MORE  LASTING   THAN  BRONZE."         395 

hour,  during  which  his  manner  was  strangely  con- 
strained, he  arose,  and  said  he  must  be  going,  plead- 
ing an  engagement  with  the  Prime  Minister.  She 
urged  him  as  warmly  as  she  dared  to  remain  longer, 
but  without  success.  What  did  it  mean  ?  Still,  she 
flattered  her  troubled  heart  with  the  fact  that  he  had 
promised  to  drink  tea  with  her  at  five  o'clock.  Yet, 
when  she  had  suggested  that  he  should  dine  with  her 
at  seven,  and  that  afterwards  they  might  walk  out  to 
the  Janiculum  in  the  moonlight  and  hear  the  city 
bells  from  the  plateau  of  San-Pietro  in  Montorio,  his 
brow  contracted,  as  he  replied  that  he  feared  the 
walk  would  be  a  little  long,  and  that  the  effect  would 
be  dearly  bought.  ^Yhat  did  it  mean  ? 

Rising  restlessly,  she  went  out  upon  the  lawn  and 
walked  up  and  down  a  few  times  in  front  of  the  stu- 
dio. Presently,  when  passing  one  of  the  open  win- 
dows of  a  large  room  in  which  several  men  were 
usually  at  work,  she  missed  the  sound  of  their  mallets 
and  glanced  in  curiously.  The  men  were  gathered 
in  a  group,  one  of  them  holding  a  newspaper  from 
which  he  was  reading  aloud.  She  was  surprised 
and  somewhat  annoyed  at  this  dereliction  of  duty, 
and  watched  them.  When  the  reading  was  fin- 
ished, they  stood  eagerly  talking  together,  and  her 
curiosity  was  awakened. 

"  What  is  the  news  ?  ''  she  demanded  aloud. 

The  workmen  turned  and  stood  silent ;  then  one  of 
their-number  advanced  to  the  window. 

"  It  will  interest  you.  Signora,"  was  his  brief  reply 
as  he  offered  the  journal  to  her. 

She   seized   it,,  and   looking   at   the    place    which 


396  AGATHA   PAGE. 

the  man's  finger  indicated,  she  read  the  following 
telegram  :  — 

"At  Gazzada,  near  Varese,  ten  cases  are  reported 
among  the  tenants  at  the  Villa  Loreno.  There  is  a  cordon 
of  military  around  the  estate,  and  to  get  news  is  difficult. 
The  Marchese  Loreno  is  said  to  be  in  Rome,  but  the  Mar- 
chesa  is  reported  to  be  nobly  devoting  herself  to  the  sick, 
whom  she  attends  personally.  Her  heroism  has  restored 
order,  but  the  gravest  anxiety  for  her  safet^v  is  felt  through- 
out the  district,  and  great  excitement  prevails." 

At  that  moment  the  studio  bell  rang.  She  glanced 
hastily  at  her  watch  and  whispered  distinctly :  "  It  is 
the  Marquis  ;  not  a  word  of  this  to  him.  I  must  break 
the  news.  Quick  !  go  to  work  before  he  enters !  " 

Hurrying  back  to  her  room  she  seized  her  chisel, 
and  as  Filippo's  step  was  heard  upon  the  threshold 
she  was  hard  at  work.  Turning  to  greet  him,  she 
searched  his  face  eagerly,  and  a  glance  convinced  her 
that  he  had  not  heard  the  news.  She  felt  that  it 
should  be  broken  gently. 

"  Is  the  water  boiling?"  he  asked  with  a  careless 
smile.  "  I  'm  tired,  and  the  tea  will  be  welcome." 

"  It 's  nearly  ready,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Go  on  with  your  work,"  he  said.  "  I  '11  sit  here 
and  watch  you  ;  or  I  '11  glance  over  the  evening 
paper,  if  you  have  one." 

He  seemed  much  more  like  the  old  Filippo  now, 
and  she  dreaded  to  tell  him  the  bad  news. 

"No,  I  'm  tired  of  work,"  she  said.  "  If  the  paper 
has  come  I  '11  read  it  to  you  while  you  watch  the 
water." 


"MORE  LASTING    THAN  BRONZE*'         397 

"  Very  well  ;  "  and  as  she  went  into  the  ante-room 
he  seated  himself  beside  the  small  lamp,  over  which 
the  kettle  stood. 

She  snatched  the  paper  from  her  pocket,  and  after 
smoothing  it,  stood  with  her  hand  upon  the  door- 
handle, undecided  what  to  do.  That  he  had  left 
Varese  indicated  much,  almost  everything,  in  spite 
of  his  apparent  apathy.  Confronted  as  he  was  by 
the  responsibility  of  loosening  bonds  and  readjust- 
ing relations  which  had  existed  for  nearly  seven  years, 
a  heart  as  tender  as  his  would  naturally  have  a  sense 
of  misgiving,  even  of  regret,  that  might  account  for 
his  present  conduct.  It  was  nothing  more  nor  less 
than  sympathy  for  Agatha,  and  a  little  time  was 
needed  to  allow  it  to  subside.  Mercede  did  not 
doubt  the  strength  of  her  own  power  over  him  ;  yet 
she  regretted  more  than  she  could  tell,  the  unfortu- 
nate news  which  must  add  to  his  sympathy  with  the 
wife  to  whom  he  had  just  dealt  so  terrible  a  blow. 
She  must  not  delay  longer,  however,  and  would  let 
circumstances  guide  her.  Re-entering  the  studio,  she 
took  a  chair  with  her  back  to  the  light,  and  opening 
the  paper  carelessly,  began  to  read  aloud. 

"A  very  interesting  discovery  was  made  yesterday  at 
Tivoli,  while  some  workmen  were  digging  a  well  upon  the 
estate  of — " 

"  Leave  that  until  after  you  read  the  telegrams," 
Loreno  interrupted. 

"  As  you  please  ; "  and  she  turned  to  another  page. 

"The  steamship  'Gottardo,'  of  the  Florio  line,  arrived 
in  New  York.  The  '  Independente,'  of  the  same  line, 
arrived  in  Gibraltar,  bound  for  Genoa." 


398  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  How  stupid !  "  And  she  ran  her  eye  across  the 
page.  "  Ah,  this  is  better :  "  — 

"Paris.  It  is  reported  here  in  official  circles  that  ne- 
gotiations have  been  opened  with  the  Vatican  in  regard 
to  —  " 

"  Never  mind  those  silly  reports,"  Loreno  ex- 
claimed. "  As  an  ex-diplomat  I  know  how  in  dull 
times  I  gave  similar  reports  for  the  correspondents  to 
send  to-day  and  contradict  to-morrow.  What  is  the 
news  of  the  cholera,  —  anything  from  Milan  or  around 
my  neighborhood  ?  " 

She  seemed  a  long  time  finding  these  despatches. 

"  Milan  —  Milan,"  she  said  presently,  glancing 
down  the  column.  "  No,  not  a  word." 

"  Nor  from  any  part  of  our  district?  " 

"Spezia,  Genoa,  Poretta  —  is  Poretta  near  you  ?  " 

"  No,  it  is  this  side  of  Bologna,  half-way  to 
Florence." 

"Oh,  so  it  is.  But  why  don't  you  pay  attention 
to  your  duty ;  don't  you  see  the  steam  ? "  and 
crunching  the  paper  in  her  hand,  she  used  it  in  lift- 
ing the  hot  kettle.  "  Blow  out  the  light  for  me  — 
that 's  right  I  Now  put  that  tile  upon  the  table,  for 
this  kettle  is  heavy — so;  thank  you.  Now  please 
bring  me  that  bowl  of  sugar  yonder ;  "  and  as  he 
turned  to  obey  her  she  tossed  the  crumpled  news- 
paper upon  the  table.  The  door  was  opened,  and  a 
servant  entered  with  a  telegram  upon  a  salver. 

Rising  quickly  Mercede  intercepted  the  bearer,  who 
was  approaching  Filippo,  and  snatching  up  the  en- 
velope motioned  with  her  head  for  the  man  to  with- 


"MORE  LASTING   THAN  BRONZE."         399 

draw.  She  studied  the  address  for  an  instant,  and 
then  thrust  the  despatch  unread  into  her  pocket. 

"That's  delicious!"  laughed  Loreno.  "You  re- 
ceive telegrams  like  a  veteran." 

"  It  is  something  I  know  about  already." 

"  What  a  comfort !  I  wish  I  could  discount  my 
telegrams." 

"  You  are  not  expecting  one  ?  "  and  she  looked  at 
him  furtively. 

"  No  ;  but  when  cholera  is  reported  to  be  flitting 
about  the  neighborhood,  one  can't  help  being  a  trifle 
nervous." 

"  Did  you  arrange  to  have  them  send  you  a 
telegram  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  of  course  they  would." 

"  And  then  you  would  return  immediately?  " 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"  Yet  why  should  you?  You  couldn't  do  any  good, 
and  would  simply  risk  your  life  to  no  purpose." 

"  Still,  duty  is  duty." 

"  If  you  think  it  your  duty  to  undertake  this  Ber- 
lin mission,  I  should  think  it  your  duty  to  carry  it 
out." 

"  That  would  depend.  If  cholera  were  actuall}T  to 
break  out  at  Varese,  I  would  let  the  mission  go  to 
the  dogs." 

"  I  should  regard  that  as  unworthy  of  you.  Indeed, 
I'd  thwart  you  if  I  could." 

"Thwart  me!"  and  he  laughed.  "I  think  not; 
no  one  thwarts  me." 

"Vain  man !"  and  her  face  bore  its  brightest  smile. 

"No,  it 's  only  a  fact  for  my  autobiography,  which, 


400  AGATHA    PAGE. 

if  the  Berlin  mission  succeeds,  will  be  worth  writ- 
ing ;  "  and  he  sipped  his  tea  complacently. 

"  Yet  you  would  throw  it  over  for  the  sake  of  a 
senseless  sentiment." 

He  poised  his  cup  and  looked  at  her  with  an 
amused  expression. 

"  How  devoted  you  are  to  strong  phrases !"  was  his 
irrelevant  reply. 

"  I  confess  I  've  no  patience  with  halting  minds  or 
measures,"  she  answered  earnestly.  "  Having  once 
put  my  hand  to  the  plough  I  never  look  back  ;  but 
you,  while  you  walk  forward  perhaps,  seem  to  stretch 
your  very  neck  looking  for  letters,  telegrams,  or 
messages  from  the  villa." 

He  only  laughed.  "  You  are  too  imaginative  for  a 
diplomat,"  he  said;  "  but  if  your  imagination  had  n't 
found  a  vent  in  sculpture,  you  would  have  made  a 
great  journalist." 

"  Don't  treat  me  like  a  child,"  and  she  drew  her- 
self up  slightly.  "  I  may  have  colored  the  picture 
rather  strongly,  but  I  assure  you  the  lines  are  life- 
like." 

But  her  sarcasm  seemed  only  to  amuse  him  now ; 
she  felt  this,  and  was  alarmed.  A  temporary  reaction 
was  to  be  expected,  but  it  was  stronger  than  she  had 
anticipated.  With  this  mood  upon  him,  dare  she 
trust  him  with  this  knowledge  of  Agatha's  danger 
and  heroism  ? 

Her  hand  fell  upon  the  telegram  in  her  pocket 
and  her  fingers  clutched  it  desperately.  Suppose  he 
should  discover  her  contrivances  to  keep  him  ?  He 
might  upbraid  her,  but  she  would  plead  her  desire 


"MORE  LASTING   THAN  BRONZE."        401 

to  keep  him  from  danger.  From  danger  !  Strangely 
enough,  in  her  eager  thought  for  herself  she  had 
overlooked  the  danger  to  him  ;  but  now  its  realization 
appalled  her.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation  she 
rose,  and  having  adjusted  a  book  or  two  upon  the 
table,  picked  up  the  tell-tale  journal  and  flung  it  into 
tlie  waste-basket. 

Her  decision  was  taken,  —  at  any  cost,  Filippo 
should  not  go  to  Varese. 

"  When  do  you  leave  for  Germany  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  To-morrow  morning." 

"  So  soon  ?  "  There  was  something  in  her  eye  and 
tone  that  always  appealed  to  him,  —  something  which 
stirred  him  even  now. 

To-morrow  morning !  The  words  set  her  mind 
aflame.  To-morrow  morning  he  would  be  on  his  way 
out  of  Italy !  If  the  news  from  Varese  could  be 
kept  from  him  until  then,  the  chances  were  against 
his  learning  it  until  too  late  to  give  up  his  mission. 
To  risk  the  effect  of  Agatha's  heroism  upon  his  mind 
at  this  critical  moment  was  not  to  be  thought  of,  and 
added  to  this  was  the  peril  to  his  life.  He  must  be 
induced  to  leave  Rome  instantly,  and  must,  moreover, 
remain  away  until  the  morning.  But  how  could  it 
be  accomplished  ? 

In  this  desperate  moment  her  course  was,  as  ever, 
dominated  by  her  unbending  will.  She  had  now 
gone  too  far  to  retreat.  A  crisis  was  inevitable,  nor 
could  the  battle  be  a  drawn  one  :  she  must  either  win 
or  lose.  There  must,  therefore,  be  no  half  measures ; 
to  be  weak  were 'to  deserve  defeat.  What  did  she 
care  for  the  good  opinion  of  the  world  as  compared 

26 


402  AGATHA   PAGE. 

with  Filippo's  love,  Filippo's  life  ?  For  such  a  recom- 
pense no  sacrifice  was  too  great.  Yes,  she  herself 
must  take  him  from  Rome  and  keep  him  until  the 
morrow  ! 

Rallying  all  the  forces  of  her  nature,  she  prepared 
for  action,  stamping  upon  conscience  and  drowning 
its  last  despairing  cry  with  the  shibboleth,  "  I  love  — 
therefore  I  am  right !  " 

"  I  presume,"  she  said  aloud,  "  if  you  are  going 
to-morrow,  that  your  'business  here  is-  finished  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  'm  quite  ready  to  start." 

"  Then  I  have  a  plan  to  propose.  Let  us  run  out 
to  Frascati  to  pass  this  last  evening;  it  will  be  a 
pleasant  memory  while  you  are  away." 

"  I  'm  scarcely  in  the  mood  for  it,"  he  answered 
gravely. 

"  That  will  soon  come  when  we  are  fairly  started, 
and  I  should  very  much  like  to  go." 

"  I  'm  sorry  to  deny  you,"  he  said,  trying  to  dis- 
guise his  repugnance  to  the  plan,  "but  I  shall  have 
all  the  railway  clatter  that  I  want  without  begin- 
ning to-night." 

"  That  is  no  reason  for  denying  me,"  she  persisted. 
"  It's  not  much  to  ask  when  I  am  not  to  see  you  for 
a  month."  Her  head  swam  with  suppressed  excite- 
ment, and  her  eyes  glowed  with  the  intensity  of  her 
purpose.  "  Surely,  Filippo,  you  won't  disappoint 
me!  It  would  be  more  than  selfish,  —  it-would  be 
positively  unkind." 

"  Don't  urge  me,"  he  replied.  "  You  would  n't 
wish  me  to  go  unwillingly." 

"  Unwillingly  !  "    Then  turning  away  she  continued 


"MORE  LASTING   THAN  BRONZE."        403 

in  a  low  voice,  "  No  ;  I  should  rather  give  it  up  than 
humiliate  myself." 

"  Pardon  me,  Mercede ! "  he  said  quickly,  "  I  did 
not  intend  to  wound  you ;  but  why  not  remain  here 
quietly  ?  " 

She  came  nearer.  "  Can't  you  see,  Filippo,  that  it 
is  more  than  a  passing  whim  ?  And  if  that  were  all 
it  is,  think  how  many  days  must  pass  before  you  will 
again  have  a  chance  to  humor  me." 

He  was  silent,  and  her  heart  beat  wildly.  On  the 
morrow,  he  told  himself,  he  was  to  leave  Rome,  and 
his  silence  while  away  would  indicate  much  to  Mer- 
cede. Both  his  inclination  and  judgment  were  ad- 
verse to  her  plan ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  did 
not  propose  to  adopt  a  radical  course  toward  her 
which  might  embarrass  the  freedom  of  Agatha's 
relations  with  the  General.  Since  Mercede's  heart 
was  so  strangely  set  upon  making  this  excursion,  it 
might  be  best  to  humor  her.  Yet  he  wished  that 
she  had  not  proposed  it,  —  and  to-day  of  all  days. 

Mercede  was  searching  his  face  closely.  "  Come," 
she  urged,  "  be  kind  to  me  ;  it  will  be  a  long  time 
before  I  shall  see  you  again,  and  who  knows  what 
may  happen  ?  " 

It  was  a  random  shot,  but  it  struck  him  fairly, 
for  he  was  not  indifferent  to  the  pain  which  would 
be  hers  when  she  realized  his  changed  attitude  toward 
her.  .  . 

"  I'll  send  a  line  to  my  maid,"  she  exclaimed  im- 
petuously, going  to  her  desk,  "  to  tell  her  that  I 
won't  be  home  to  dinner;  and  then  let  us  be  off! 
If  we  hurry,  we  can  catch  the  five-thirty  train." 


404  AGATHA   PAGE. 

Without  waiting  for  his  reply,  she  began  to  write, 
when  a  workman  entered  and  laid  a  card  before 
her. 

She  glanced  at  it,  and  her  face  assumed  the  pallor 
of  death. 

"  I  '11  come  immediately,"  she  managed  to  say,  and 
seizing  a  fan  plied  it  nervously  as  she  tried  to  control 
her  wavering  senses. 

Filippo  watched  her.  "  Are  you  faint  ?  "  he  asked 
quickly. 

"  No  —  only  the  heat  is  awful,"  and  in  spite  of  her 
giddiness  she  managed  to  smile  brightly. 

Rising,  she  walked  as  steadily  as  she  could  to  the 
door,  where  she  turned,  and,  nodding  familiarly,  as- 
sured Filippo  she  would  be  back  presently. 

Entering  the  adjoining  room  she  was  confronted 
by  the  prim  figure  of  Mr.  Peter  Dow. 

"  Come  outside,"  she  said,  leading  him  through  a 
long  window  to  the  open  air. 

"  You  have  come  from  Varese  ?  "  she  began. 

"  Yes ;  I  arrived  an  hour  ago.  Not  finding  the 
Marquis  at  home,  I  came  here." 

"  Why  here  ?  " 

"  I  thought  he  might  be  with  you." 

"  He  was  here  this  morning ;  I  would  advise  your 
seeking  him  at  the  Prime  Minister's  office." 

Mr.  Dow  looked  surprised. 

"  Is  n't  he  here  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Here !  What  put  such  an  idea  into  your 
head  ?  " 

"  Your  men  said  he  was  with  you,  and  that  you 
were  breaking  the  news  to  him." 


" MORE  LASTING    THAN  BRONZE."          405 

"What  news?" 

"  About  the  cholera." 

"  Is  there  any  truth  in  the  report  ?  " 

"  It  is  all  true." 

«  Then  I  '11  tell  him  to-night." 

"  But  the  men  said  he  was  with  you." 

"  So  he  was,  but  I  would  not  alarm  him  so  greatly 
upon  a  mere  rumor." 

"  Has  he  gone  ?  " 

She  hesitated  an  instant.  Loreno's  life  was  in  her 
hands,  she  thought. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  firmly ;  "  by  the  lawn,  —  five  min- 
utes ago." 

Her  companion  rose  instantly.  "  Then  I  must  fol- 
low him.  Where  has  he  gone  ?  " 

41  He  did  n't  say.     What  do  you  wish  with  him  ?  " 

"  His  wife  is  at  the  villa,  cholera  is  raging,  and 
only  Veltri  is  with  her." 

"  But  would  you  have  him  sacrifice  his  life  ?  " 

"  Let  him  decide.  It  is  my  duty  to  inform  him  of 
the  facts." 

"  And  murder  him  ?  " 

"  '  Murder  him  ' !     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  That  to  tell  him  is  to  send  him  into  the  very  jaws 
of  death." 

"  He  will  never  forgive  me  if  I  don't  tell  him,  and 
his  place  is  by  the  side  of  his  wife." 

She  drove  her  nails  into  her  hands  and  ground  her 
teeth,  but  controlled  herself. 

"  He  will  come  to  me  again  this  evening,"  she  said  ; 
"  leave  me  to  break  the  awful  news  to  him." 

"  No  ;  I  must  see  him  myself." 


406  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  Theu  come  to  the  Palazzo  this  evening  at  eigrht 

-  o  o 

o'clock.  Now  I  .must  ask  you  to  excuse  me,  for  I 
have  an  engagement." 

"  Will  you  prepare  him  ?  He  should  take  the 
night  train." 

"  Yes." 

"  Very  well ;  I  will  be  prompt.  And  in  the  mean 
time  I  '11  go  look  for  him." 

"  Quite  right,"  and  giving  him  her  hand  she  moved 
away. 

He  was  puzzled,  not  knowing  where  to  go  with 
any  chance  of  success.  He  had  not  stopped  to  eat 
anything  since  his  arrival,  and  his  fast,  added  to  the 
heat  and  his  fatigue,  had  given  him  a  raging  head- 
ache. 

"  I  '11  sit  down  for  a  moment,"  he  said  with  a  dis- 
heartened sigh  ;  and  he  went  to  a  bench  under  a 
neighboring  tree.  As  he  seated  himself,  Loreno  ap- 
peared at  the  window  of  Madame  Andrews  studio. 

"  By  George !  "  exclaimed  the  astonished  witness, 
*'  it  is  the  best  way  of  getting  there  !  " 

While  returning  to  the  studio  Mercede's  mind  was 
concentrated  upon  one  aim,  —  to  get  Filippo  away 
from  Rome  before  Mr.  Dow  should  see  him.  All 
her  power  of  self-control,  all  her  natural  gift  as  an 
actress,  was  brought  into  play  to  carry  out  her  pur- 
pose. She  entered  the  room,  blithely  humming  a 
favorite  song. 

"There  !"  she  exclaimed,  "all  business  is  finished, 
and  now  I  have  nothing  to  do  but  enjoy  myself. 
Are  you  ready  ?  " 


"MORE   LASTING    THAN  BRONZE."         407 

"Yes." 

"  Come,  then !  "  and  she  slipped  her  hand  through 
his  arm  ;  looking  up  at  him  brightly,  she  added, 
"Won't  it  be  delightful?" 

As  she  spoke  the  words  the  door  opened  and  they 
were  confronted  by  the  sober  face  of  Mr.  Dow. 

"Why,  how  do  you  do?"  Mercede  exclaimed,  rush- 
ing forward  and  blocking  his  entrance.  "  Excuse  me 
for  a  moment,  Filippo,"  she  said  over  her  shoulder, 
"  I  've  something  to  say  to  Mr.  Dow ; "  and  before 
that  astonished  gentleman  could  object,  he  found 
himself  pushed  back  into  the  anteroom  and  the  door 
closed. 

"  For  God's  sake  don't  tell  him  now!"  she  pleaded; 
"  he  's  entirely  unprepared.  I  wanted  time  to  pre- 
pare him,  you  know.  Come  to  my  apartment  to- 
night at  eight,  as  I  proposed.  I  was  about  to  take 
him  for  a  walk  and  break  the  news  by  degrees." 

The  shrewd  American  looked  at  her  speechlessly 
for  a  moment. 

"  You  said  he  was  n't  here,"  he  replied,  mentally 
associating  two  different  trains  of  thought. 

"  I  know  I  did.  I  had  n't  time  to  explain,  and  took 
that  way  of  using  my  judgment.  Leave  me  to  break 
the  news,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Now  ?     On  your  walk  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes  ;  will  you  ?  " 

He  thought  a  moment  before  finally  deciding. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "and  I  '11  go  with  you." 

She  was  equal  to  the  emergency.  "  Certainly,  if 
you  wish  to ;  although  I  can  tell  him  much  better 
alone." 


408  AGATHA    PAGE. 

"  Can  you  ?  "  and  he  seemed  to  be  considering  the 
suggestion. 

"  Certainly.  And  you  wait  here  until  we  come 
back." 

She  knew  her  plan  was  more  than  bold,  —  that  it 
was  desperate.  But  what  could  she  do  ?  If  Filippo 
learned  all  now,  her  position  would  be  intolerable, 
for  everything  was  against  her,  —  appearances,  facts, 
and  time. 

"  How  soon  will  you  be  back  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Dow. 

"  I  can't  tell  precisely  ;  how  can  I  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  had  better  go  with  you." 

"  Santa  Maria !  "  and  Mercede  turned  upon  him 
with  blazing  eyes.  "  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? 
Must  I  go  over  the  whole  thing  again  ?  " 

u  No,  I  've  got  it  all  clearly  in  my  mind  ;  but  I 
think  I  '11  go  with  you,  or  else  tell  him  myself,  for 
there  is  no  time  to  lose." 

"  I  '11  tell  him  without  delay,  and  bring  him  back 
here  within  half  an  hour.  Ecco  !  " 

"  Still,  I  don't  like  to  get  into  the  habit  of  trusting 
others  to  do  my  business  ;  I  think  I  '11  tell  —  " 

In  her  wrath  Mercede  suddenly  seized  his  arm. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Mr.  Dow  !  "  she  interrupted, 
"don't  say  that  again.  Talk  of  a  habit!  You've 
said  that  fifty  times.  Now  you  simply  must  not 
and  shall  not  go  with  us !  It  is  too  serious  a  thing 
for  mere  civility,  and  I  say  you  shall  not  tell 
him." 

"  I  don't  insist  upon  telling  him,  only  upon  going 
with  you." 

"  Well,  that 's  impossible.     I  don't  want  you." 


"  MORE  LASTING    THAN  BRONZE."         409 

"  I  'in  very  sorry ;  but  all  the  same  I  think  I  must 

go-" 

She  felt  that  the  crisis  had  come.  This  man's 
obstinacy  baffled  her  completely.  While  she  stood 
silent,  trying  to  form  some  new  plan  of  action,  her 
cheek  suddenly  blanched  as  a  tap  was  heard  upon 
the  door  behind  her  and  Filippo's  face  appeared. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Dow  !  "  he  said,  nodding 
cordiall}'.  "When  you  and  Madame  Andre'  have 
finished,  I  want  the  news  from  Varese ;  so  don't  go 
without  seeing  me  again." 

"It  is  you  I  have  come  to  see,"  was  the  quick 
response,  "  and  there  is  n't  a  moment  to  be  lost,  for 
you  must  catch —  " 

"  The  five-thirty  train,"  Mercede  interrupted 
coolly ;  "  so  please  postpone  your  chat,  Mr.  Dow, 
until  the  Marquis  returns.  Go  get  my  hat  and 
cloak,  Filippo,"  she  added  brightly,  "and  meet  me 
upon  the  lawn  ;  I  '11  give  you  the  Varese  news." 
Filippo  turned  to  obey  her,  and  she  whispered 
appealingly  to  Mr.  Dow,  "  Wait  here,  and  leave  it 
to  me!" 

"  Madame  Andre,  what  does  all  this  trifling  mean?" 
he  demanded  with  unsuspected  savageness.  "I  have 
a  serious  errand  with  the  Marquis,  and  it  must  be 
discharged  without  further  delay  —  and  by  me." 

Loreno  turned  instantly,  and  going  close  to  Mer- 
cede, eyed  her  narrowly. 

She  was  bewildered  by  the  sudden  disaster  which 
confronted  her,  and  stood  looking  irresolutely  into 
his  eyes.  Suddenly  he  turned  awa}7,  and  going  to 
the  studio  door  held  it  open  for  Mr.  Dow  to  pass. 


410  AGATHA   PAGE. 

"  One  moment,  Filippo  !  "  Mercede  exclaimed  vehe- 
mently. "  I  too  have  something  to  tell  you  !  Hear 
me  first — Filippo!"  but  without  a  word  he  followed 
Mr.  Dow  and  closed  the  door. 

u  You  have  come  from  the  Marchesa,"  Loreno  said. 
"  Yes  ;  that  is,  from  Varese." 
"  The  Marchesa  has  sent  me  a  message  ?  " 
"  Yes.     She    begs   that    you  will   not    return    to 
Varese." 

"  Begs   me    not    to  return !     I   don't   understand 

you." 

"  Have  you  seen  the  evening  paper  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  Did  you  read  the  cholera  reports  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  that  is,  I  heard  them  read." 

"  You  did  !  " 

"  Yes  ;  why  ?  Great  God,  Mr.  Dow,  it 's  not  at 
Varese  ! " 

"  Even  worse  ;  at  the  villa  itself." 

"  But  my  wife  and  the  children  are  away  and 
safe  ?  "  and  grasping  the  other's  arm  he  searched  his 
face  eagerly. 

"  The  children  are  safe." 

"  And  Agatha  —  "  he  asked  with  strained  eyes  and 
bated  breath. 

*'  Is  there  with  her  people,  but  was  well  yesterday." 

"  Thank  God  !  thank  God  ! "  and  his  voice  rang 
through  the  room  as  he  lifted  his  hands  gratefully 
toward  heaven.  He  walked  away  and  remained 
silent  for  a  moment.  Then  he  turned  and  said  in  a 
calmer  voice  :  "  So  the  Marchesa  remained  among  her 
people.  Sending  every  one  else  to  a  place  of  safety, 


"MORE  LASTING    THAN  BRONZE."         411 

she  remains  to  help  the  unfortunate.  Of  course  she 
does  ! " 

"  The  children  are  at  Erba,  and  Veltri  remained 
to  help  the  Marchesa." 

"  Veltri !  and  here  am  I  loitering  in  Rome  !  " 

"  You  can  catch  to-night's  express  —  " 

"  I  must  go  faster,"  he  interrupted.  "  I  must  have 
a  special  train.  Are  you  going  North  ?  " 

"  I  go  to  Erba." 

"  Will  you  go  with  me  ?  " 

"  Gladly." 

"  Then  come  !  "  and  he  seized  his  hat. 

But  behind  him  stole  a  quiet  step,  and  a  trembling 
hand  was  laid  upon  his  arm. 

"  Filippo  !  " 

He  turned,  and  his  eyes  fell  upon  a  face  pitiable  in 
its  fright  and  woe,  but  the  face  into  which  Mercede 
looked  was  utterly  impassive. 

"  Filippo  — one  moment  —  one  moment  only !  Don't 
misjudge  me  —  I  have  nothing  to  ask  save  this: 
Don't  go  to  Varese  !  "  and  she  held  out  her  hands 
as  though  begging  alms.  "  Send  for  Agatha.  Plead 
with  —  command  her  to  come  away  ;  but  for  my  sake 
—  yes,  for  Agatha's  sake,  don't  go  to  Varese  !  Prom- 
ise me  this,  Filippo  ! "  He  drew  back,  and  she  fol- 
lowed him  with  great  tears  blinding  her  eyes. 
*'  Filippo !  "  she  pleaded,  her  lip  quivering,  her  deep 
voice  trembling  and  broken,  "  don't  sacrifice  your 
life  for  those  peasants !  Though  you  save  a  hundred 
of  them,  they  can't  comfort  us,  —  Agatha  and  me. 
In  her  name  I  plead,  as  well  as  in  my  own.  Go  near 
if  you  will,  and  send  for  her.  Beg  her  as  she  loves 


412  AGATHA    PAGE. 

you  to  come  away  —  beg  her  in  the  name  of  her 
children  to  come  away ;  but  don't  go  to  that  fatal 
place  !  Tell  him  not  to  go,  Mr.  Dow  ;  please  tell  him 
not  to  go  !  " 

Her  nerve  and  her  strength  gave  way,  and  she 
sank  to  the  floor  sobbing  piteously. 

Mr.  Dow  turned  away  his  face,  but  Loreno  looked 
upon  her  without  a  token  of  pity.  The  scales  had 
fallen  from  his  eyes  and  her  spell  was  broken.  His 
mind  was  absorbed  by  one  thought — Agatha.  At 
last  he  comprehended  the  fulness  of  her  strength. 
There  was  now  no  vestige  of  blindness  left.  A 
swift  vision  swept  across  his  mind  of  her  sweet 
face,  her  heroic  faith,  her  self-control  and  patience, 
crowned  by  her  consistent  consecration  to  his  suffer- 
ing people. 

Yet  he  felt  no  resentment  toward  the  woman  at 
his  feet.  So  far  as  he  recognized  the  past,  it  was 
only  to  glorify  Agatha  and  to  condemn  himself;  for 
Mercede  he  had  absolutely  no  thought,  —  neither  of 
disdain  nor  sympathy.  He  saw  before  him  only  a 
weeping  woman,  whose  sorrow  failed  to  touch  him. 
Why  this  was  so  he  did  not  ask  himself,  nor  did  he 
even  wonder.  It  was  no  time  for  small  emotions. 
It  is  the  heart  that  feels  pity,  and  his  heart  was  verily 
benumbed  with  fear  for  an  incalculably  precious  life 
at  this  moment  in  jeopardy.  Perhaps  he  might  never 
again  see  Agatha  alive,  never  crave  her  forgiveness, 
never  again  hold  her  to  his  heart  or  look  into  those 
clear  true  eyes  as  he  pledged  to  her  the  unfaltering 
devotion  of  his  remaining  years.  What,  then,  were  a 
few  tears  to  such  anguish  as  his  ! 


"MORE  LASTING    THAX  BRONZE."        413 

Although  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Mercede  ho 
seemed  scarcely  to  see  her.  He  turned  to  Mr. 
Dow. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "we  are  losing  precious  time." 
And  without  another  glance  upon  the  beseeching 
face  upturned  to  his,  he  strode  from  the  room. 


UniTersity  Press  :    John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


A    000110225    o 


